


Beautiful Bastard II (English Version)

by ashtobone



Series: Beautiful Bastard (English Version) [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Adaptation, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Co-workers, Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, M/M, POV First Person, POV Harry Styles, POV Louis Tomlinson, Power Bottom Louis Tomlinson, Top Harry, Top Louis Tomlinson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25993381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtobone/pseuds/ashtobone
Summary: A strong attraction. No time to be alone. And a mysterious dispute between four walls...The intense relationship between Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles continues, even more ardent and sensual. Now that Louis' career is taking off, he has no time for anything else and insists on refusing Harry's advances to spend time alone.Harry was never the type to take no for an answer and this dispute results in a burning love and obsession relationship.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Beautiful Bastard (English Version) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861363
Comments: 51
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Beautiful Bastard II](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25803496) by [ashtobone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtobone/pseuds/ashtobone). 



> "Beautiful Bastard II" is an adaptation and was originally published in 2018, on Wattpad. For many reasons, I was absent and took my stories with me. I don't intend to publish them again on Wattpad, but it seems unfair to leave them in the dark and away from the people who read, liked and supported me when I published it.
> 
> This and all my stories originally posted on Wattpad will be transferred here to the Archive and I hope they can still please some hearts as they once did.

**• Harry •**

My mother always told me to find someone who was equivalent to me, in every way.

"Never fall in love with someone who puts you first. Find someone who is as fearless and energetic as you are. Find someone who makes you want to be a better person."

I definitely met my better half, the guy who made my life hell and who lived just to argue with me. Someone whose mouth I wanted to cover with tape ... or with a kiss.

My boyfriend, my former intern, Louis Tomlinson. A beautiful bastard.

At least, that was how I saw him when I was a blind idiot, hopelessly in love with him. I had certainly met the man who made me want to be a better person, and I was delighted with that fearless boy. It turns out that, on most days, I could barely spend more than two minutes alone with him.

_ My life in a nutshell: finally winning the boy; never getting to be with him for real. _

* * *

I had spent most of the past two months traveling in search of good space for the branch that Styles Media Group is opening in New York.

Louis had stayed in London, and although our recent - and rare - weekend together in the city had been full of friends, sunny afternoons and leisure, the time we spent alone was simply not enough. We met several friends all the time, from morning until after midnight, and we returned exhausted to my apartment, barely managing to remove our clothes before having sex in a quiet and sleepy climate.

The truth was that sex - which over time had become more intimate and wild, allowing us only a minimum of sleep - never seemed to be enough.

I expected to feel, at some point, that we had stabilized our sex life, found a solid routine. But it never happened. I remained in a constant state of longing and longing. And Mondays were the worst days. On Mondays there were meetings all day and all the week's work ahead: a melancholy and devoid of Louis.

I heard the familiar cadence of footsteps hitting the tile floor and raised my head while I waited for the printer to finish printing some documents. As if he had heard my inner plea, Louis Tomlinson approached me, wearing a red wool cardigan and tight dark blue pants. In the morning, when I left to prepare for the eight o'clock meeting, the only thing he was wearing was a pale ray of sunlight that came in through the bedroom window.

I held back a smile and tried not to look too desperate, but I shouldn't have bothered. He could read all of my expressions.

"So you found the magic machine that takes what you do on the computer and puts it on a piece of paper, using ink," he said.

I put my hand in my pocket, fiddled with some coins, and felt an adrenaline rush when I heard the provocative tone in his voice.

“In fact, I discovered this wonderful invention on my first day here. It turns out that I liked the happy moments of silence when I sent you out of my office to look for documents elsewhere.”

He advanced on me, with a wide smile and mischievous eyes.

“Son of a bitch.”

_ Yeah, fuck. Come to me, boy. Ten minutes in the copy room? I can easily brighten your day in ten minutes. _

"You're going to have to sweat a lot tonight," he whispered as he patted my back and kept walking down the hall.

I watched his ass while doing a little shaking and waited for him to come back to torture me some more. But he didn't come back.  _ Only that? Is that all I get? A pat on the back, a little chatter and a shaking? _

_ At least today we're going to have our first full night together in weeks. _

We had been in love for more than a year, and we haven't had more than a weekend alone since the trip to Los Angeles. I sighed and pulled my papers from the printer. We needed a vacation.

* * *

Back in my office, I left the papers on my desk and looked at the computer screen, which, to my surprise, showed an almost empty agenda. I had worked late into the past few days just to get home early today and be with Louis, so with the exception of the morning meeting with HR, my schedule was free. However, Louis was clearly busy in his new position.

I missed having him as my intern. I missed bossing him all day. And I really missed him by replying to my orders.

For the first time in months, I had time to sit in my office and literally do nothing. I closed my eyes and hundreds of thoughts crossed my mind in a matter of seconds: the sight of the empty offices in New York just before I left for the airport. The prospect of packing everything in my apartment. The much more favorable prospect of packing everything in a new home with Louis. And then my brain followed its favorite path: the sight of Louis naked in every possible position.

Which made me think of one of my favorite memories of the two of us: the morning after your presentation. After we admitted that we were no longer just having casual sex, but interested in something more, a tension arose and we had one of our biggest discussions. I hadn't seen him in months, so I came by surprise at his final MBA presentation, to see him rock. And he rocked.

But after that, despite everything we said in the conference room, there was still so much to talk about. The reality of our union still felt like something very new, and I wasn't sure which page we were on.

* * *

_ As soon as we arrived on the sidewalk, I looked into his face: I looked at his eyes, his lips, his neck, which was still a little red from the kisses I had given a few minutes ago. The way he ran his fingertip over a mark I had left sent an electrical impulse from my brain straight to my dick: the conversation is great, but it's time to take him home and fuck him hard on the mattress. _

_ But I didn't know if we were on the same page about that. _

_ In daylight, he looked like he was about to pass out. Of course it was. Knowing Louis, he had probably prepared and perfected the performance for the past seventy-two hours straight, without sleeping. But I hadn't seen him in so long... could I control myself and wait for him to go home and rest? If he just needed to take a nap, I could stay around and wait, right? I could lie down beside him and reassure myself that he was really there and that we were hitting the hands and then... What would I do? Would I caress his hair? _

**_What the fuck. Have I always been such a weirdo?_ **

_ Louis threw the computer bag over his shoulder, and the movement took me out of my thoughts. But when I focused my eyes again, I saw that he was looking at the horizon, towards the river. _

_ “Are you alright?” I asked, looking down to face him. _

_ He nodded with a small start, as if he had been caught. _

_ “I'm fine... just feeling overwhelmed.” _

_ “A little stunned?” _

_ His exhausted smile sparked a loving feeling in my chest, but the way he licked his lips sparked down my body. _

_ “I was so sad thinking I wouldn't see you today. And in the morning I walked all the way between the office and here thinking how strange it would be to do this without you, or Des, or anyone at Styles Media. And then, you showed up, and of course it pissed me off, but it also made me laugh” he tilted his head and studied my face. “The presentation happened exactly the way I wanted, and then came the job offers... and you. You said you loved me. You came.” _

_ He reached out and rested his palm on my chest. I know I could feel my heart pounding. _

_ “My adrenaline is running low and now I just…” Louis pulled his hand away and waved before letting it fall as if he was totally out of energy. “I don't know how tonight will work.” _

_ How was the night going to work? I knew exactly how it was going to work. We would talk until nightfall, then we'd have sex until the sun came up. I reached out and wrapped his shoulder. God, it felt so good to hug him. _

_ “Let me worry about that. Now I'm going to take you home.” _

_ This time, he shook his head, refocusing on the moment. _

_ “Okay if you have to go back to work, we can…” _

_ I frowned and grunted: _

_ “Do not be ridiculous. It's almost four o'clock. I'm not going back to work. My car is here and you are going to get in it.” _

_ His smile deepened in the corners. The little lines at the corners of his eyes made a glorious appearance. _

_ “And here comes Bossy Styles. Now I'm definitely not going with you.” _

_ “Louis, I'm not kidding. I won't let you out of my sight until Christmas.” _

_ He squinted under the bright June sun. _

_ “Until Christmas? This seems too long for you to leave me tied up in the basement.” _

_ “If you don't like that kind of thing, our relationship may not be the right thing for you, after all…” I teased _ .

_ He laughed, but did not answer. Instead, those deep blue eyes stared at me, unblinking and difficult to interpret. _

_ I felt unaccustomed to our little games, and I could barely hide my frustration. _

_ I put my hands on his hips and leaned over to give him a small kiss on the mouth.  _ **_Shit, I needed more!_ **

_ “Let's go now. No basement. Just the two of us.” _

_ “Harry…” _

_ I interrupted him with another kiss, paradoxically relaxed by this little argument. _

_ “My car.  _ **_Now_ ** _.” _

_ “Are you sure you don't want to hear what I have to say?” _

_ “Absolutely sure. You can talk as much as you want when I have your cock firmly buried in my throat.” _

_ Louis agreed and accompanied me when I took his hand and gently pulled him towards the parking lot. However, he smiled mysteriously all the way. _

* * *

_ During the entire trip to his apartment, he ran his fingertips down my thigh, licked my neck, ran his hand over my cock and described the red boxer he had worn in the morning, when he thought a boost in self-confidence would be good. . _

_ “Your confidence will be shaken if I rip this boxer?” I asked, leaning over to kiss him when we stopped at a red light. The car behind me honked its horn just when it was getting good: when its lips gave little bites and its moans filled my mouth, my head -  _ **_shit_ ** _ -, my whole chest. I needed to take off his clothes and mount him. _

_ The elevator ride was wild. He was here, holy shit, he was here, and I had missed him so much! If it were up to me, that night would last three days. He took an impulse and I lifted him up, fitting his legs around me and pressing my hard cock into him. _

_ "I'm going to make you come a lot," I said. _

_ “Hmm, promise?” _

_ “Promise.” _

_ I pushed my hips against him and Louis almost lost his breath when he whispered: _

_ “Okay, but before…” _

_ The elevator doors opened and he got rid of me, putting his feet back on the floor. With a hesitant look, he walked ahead of me to his apartment. _

_ I felt a chill in my belly. I hadn't been here since the day I tricked the doorman into letting me up and talking to him, back when we were apart. I had ended up having this whole conversation outside the apartment. Now, I felt strangely anxious. On our night of reconciliation, I wanted to feel only relief, and not to be thinking about everything we lost in the months away from each other. To distract myself, I lowered my head, sucked the skin under his ear, and started unzipping his pants while he looked for the keys. _

_ He pushed open the door and turned to me. _

_ "Harry..." he started to speak, but I pushed him inside until I pressed him against the nearest wall, silencing his voice with my mouth. Shit, he tasted amazing, a mixture of the lemonade he'd been drinking with the familiar taste of soft mint and hungry, soft lips. My fingers started just teasing the back of his pants, but I soon lost the delicacy and almost pulled the zipper off when I pulled the entire fabric to the floor, immediately moving my hands up to his blazer. Why the hell is he still wearing this thing? Why aren't you completely naked? _

_ Under his shirt, the nipples hardened under my glassy gaze, and I reached a finger up to circle that perfection. He gasped deeply, drawing attention from my eyes. _

_ “I missed that. I missed you.” _

_ His tongue quickly wet his lips. _

_ “Me too.” _

**_“Shit, I love you.”_ **

_ When I kissed his throat, his chest rose and fell quickly, and I didn't know how to proceed, I didn't know how to slow down. Should I take him right here, quickly and furiously, or should I carry him over to the couch, kneel down and just taste him? I had thought about it for so long - imagining every possible scenario - and at this moment I felt paralyzed by the reality: he was finally here, in the flesh. _

_ I needed everything. I needed to feel his moans and his skin, I needed to lose myself in the comfort of his hand around me, I needed to watch the drop of sweat that fell on his brow as he rode me, showing how much he had missed me too. I would notice the way he would break his pace when he was close to the climax, or how he would squeeze me when I said his name in that whisper he liked so much. _

_ My hands shook when I carefully opened a button on my shirt. _

_ A small part of my rational brain was still functioning and warned me not to destroy the clothes he had worn at the presentation. _

_ In addition, I also wanted to savor the moment. I wanted to taste it. _

_ “Harry?” _

_ “Hmm?” I opened another button and ran my fingertip down his throat. _

_ "I love you," he said, his eyes wide and his hands touching my arms. My fingers lost strength and I almost stopped breathing. _ **_“But... you will hate what I have to say.”_ **


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Quick note before we get into the chapter: I've been answering some comments and some of you maybe already know the reason why I took so long to update this story.  
> I've been sick for the last two or three days and it's really been hell. Yesterday I couldn't even get out of bed! I'm feeling a little better today and managed to upload a chapter, but I'm not sure how things will roll in the next couple of days - so, if I take a little longer to put on the next one, don't be mad at me, pleeeeease! I hope you guys can understand ♥
> 
> Also, worth mentioning: this chapter is a full flashback to the night of Louis' presentation. Hopefully no one will get a little lost in the timeline!
> 
> Thank you - as always - for all the love, and comments, kudos... You are the best for making me smile even when I'm deadass super sick!

**• Harry •**

_ I took his arm, bringing him closer. _

_ “Beautiful, put your hands on me.” _

_ He ran his fingers over my neck and held my face. I could feel his trembling. _

_ "Say what you want," I begged, feeling a little desperate as I suck on his neck, chin, ear. “My dick? My mouth? My hands? God, I'm going to do all this with you today, but where do I start? I haven't seen you in months and I feel like I'm losing my mind.” _

_ “Harry.” _

_ Only when he said my name like that - as if he were shy or maybe even anxious - I remembered that he wanted to tell me something besides  _ **_‘I love you’_ ** _. Something I wouldn't like. _

_ “What's it?” _

_ His eyes were huge, searching mine and full of excuses. _

_ “I just finished my presentation and…” _

_ “Ah, shit, I'm an idiot. I should take you to dinner…” _

_ “... I promised Niall and Liam that we would hang…” _

_ “... maybe we can go out to dinner after I make you come…” I said, running over him. _

_ “... to drink after I was done.” _

_ “... I only need to hear you come once, then we can go. Just give me…” I paused while digesting his words. “Wait, what? Are you going out with Niall and Liam?  _ **_Today?_ ** _ ” _

_ “I didn't know you would show up. And I really want to call and cancel. But I just can't do that. Not after they were so nice to me in the last few months... when you and I were…” _

_ I groaned, pressing my hands to my eyes. _

_ “Why didn't you tell me that before I took off your clothes? Shit, how can I go now? I will be hard for hours.” _

_ “I tried to” justice be done, he looked as frustrated as I did. _

_ “Do we have time to…” I shook my head, looking around, as if the answer was buried in that antique furniture. "I could probably handle the two of us in, like, less than two minutes." _

_ He laughed. _

_ “I don't know if this is something you should be proud of.” _

_ Of course it was. _

_ His small exclamation of surprise was stolen by my lips when I kissed him, with tongue and teeth, without caring if we only had a few minutes. A few minutes would be enough. _

_ I slid my hand over the pulse in his neck, followed the chest and went down to the belly. I went down even further, finding that familiar and favorite spot, where he was hot and hard, slippery. Then the sky could fall on me and I wouldn't notice because, my God, there was nothing but him and his moans and whispers that asked me to continue, to continue... _

_ “Harry” he moaned, “please.” _

_ I started unzipping my own pants and had just started talking when... I was interrupted by a knock on the door. _

_ A familiar voice sounded in the hall. _

_ “We're here, Mr. Graduated in Administration, and we are ready to have a few drinks!” _

_ “This is a joke. Say this is a joke!” I said, looking at him in the face. _

_ He shook his head, trying to hide a smile. _

_ “I'm not in the mood to share you right now. You have got to be kidding me!” _

_ “I almost forgot how much I love it when you get mad like that.” _

_ He walked to the door wearing only his boxers and opened a crack before turning and running to the bedroom, leaving me alone to receive the intruders. _

**_What a hell?!_ **

_ “I'll be back in a little while!” Louis shouted over his shoulder, his almost naked ass disappearing into the room. _

_ Niall whistled loudly, walked through the door and stopped for a second before he saw me and burst out laughing. _

_ “Wow, I didn't expect you to receive us half naked, Louis” Liam came in, one hand covering his eyes and the other extended groping blindly. He grabbed my shirt open and let out a cry when he opened his eyes and saw who was holding it. “Mr. Styles!” _

_ "Hello, boys," I said, with no expression in my voice. I straightened my shirt and straightened my tie. _

_ “Oops, did we interrupt anything?” Niall asked, his eyes wide and provocative. _

_ “Actually yes. We were... getting to know each other better.” _

_ Louis shouted from the room telling us to help ourselves with champagne from the fridge, and I tried to ignore the way Niall's gaze went down to my zipper. I stood there, letting him get a good look. My erection was over, anyway. _

_ Or almost. _

_ "I didn't know it was going to be just your night," I said, when the silence seemed to drag on forever. _

_ Liam took a step back, struggling to keep his gaze above my shoulders, and explained: _

_ "I don't think anyone expected you to be here and... to spend the night." _

_ I definitely wanted to spend the night. Inside Louis, anyway. _

_ Niall studied me for a minute and then smiled. _

_ “I admit that I was almost  _ **_sure_ ** _ that Harry would be here.” _

_ I couldn't help a smile like his. After all, it was he who had convinced me to appear at Louis' presentation. He was obviously on my side. _

_ Even though he interrupted my attempt to have sex with Louis for the first time in a century. _

_ I turned and went to the kitchen to wash my hands. Niall followed me, and behind me I heard him open the champagne. The sound of the cork and the bubbling that followed reminded me of how much I wanted to open that bottle over Louis's naked body and lick the foam spilling onto his skin. _

_ Niall continued: _

_ "I think we should all go out and celebrate, and he can stay with Lou as long as he wants." He poured four glasses of champagne and handed me one. “You'll have to wait until later to... get to know him again.” _

_ Louis emerged from his room wearing tight black jeans, sneakers that looked comfortable and a blue tank top that made his skin look golden. If he came out wearing this, I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off him at all. _

_ “Louis…” I started to speak, walking over to him and leaving my champagne on the kitchen counter, with a shaking hand. I shuddered to see how his eyes sparkled, having fun, and he stood on tiptoe to speak in my ear. _

_ “You can take everything off later.” _

_ “You can count on it.” _

_ I picked up my glass of champagne again and took a sip. I felt a need to build up in my stomach and I was torn between wanting to break something and wanting to drag him into the bedroom and rip those jeans off his legs. Absolutely no part of me wanted to spend the night drinking wine, eating cheese and listening to other people's conversation. I didn't know if I could take it. _

_ As if he had heard my thoughts, he whispered: _

_ “This wait will only make our night better when we get back.” _

_ “I doubt that is possible.” _

_ His fingers lightly scratched my chest. _

_ “I missed that grouchy face.” _

_ Ignoring him, I asked: _

_ “How about if you go to my apartment later? Go out with your friends and have a lot of fun. I'll be there waiting, when you're ready.” _

_ He stretched and slid a long, soft kiss over my mouth. _

_ “What happened to the idea of not letting me out of your sight until Christmas?” _

* * *

_ I thought we were going to a nightclub, maybe some fancy place with drinks for twenty dollars, full of students in little black dresses. What I didn't expect was a discreet suburban bar with darts and what Niall described as "the best beer list in London". _

_ As long as they made me a gimlet with vodka and I could stay in constant physical contact with Louis, the night might not have been a total disaster. I followed the boys into the bar, casting intimidating looks at all the other assholes we passed on the way. Niall sat on a leather bench, shouting something to the barwoman about bringing  _ **_"the usual"_ ** _ for them and  _ **_"something pink"_ ** _ for the  _ **_"cute one"_ ** _. _

_ On second thought, this would be a long night. Liam - who was clearly still a little nervous about my presence - sat on the other side of Louis and made him tell all the details of the presentation. Louis told about director Clarence Cheng, about how I came by surprise and acting like an idiot, about presenting both projects and about the job offer. _

_ "There were two job offers," I corrected, staring at him to make it clear that I expected him to take the damned job at SMG. _

_ He rolled his eyes, but no one failed to notice his proud smile. They lifted their beers and I lifted my pink drink, and toasted Louis's success. Beside me, he took the beer and then jumped off the bench. _

_ “Who's up for some darts?” _

_ Liam raised his hand in a hop. After a single beer, he already looked a little high and relaxed enough not to act like we were in the office anymore. I slid my gaze over Louis' body. I liked the idea of watching him stretch out in those tight clothes to play the darts. _

_ “Will you come along?” He asked, turning to me and pressing his chest against my arm. _

_ Damn bastard. _

_ "In a little while, perhaps," I let my eyes linger on his lips before lowering them, running down the dug line of his tank top. Under the light fabric, the nipples were already insinuating. _

_ His laughter brought my attention back to his slightly pink lips - he noticed and pouted. _

**_“Harry is feeling a little anxious?”_ **

_ "Harry is feeling very anxious," I said, pulling him between my legs and kissing the curve of his ear. I wanted to be patient and let him enjoy the night, but patience was never my forte. “Harry wants Louis naked and touching his dick.” _

_ With a chuckle, he rolled to the back of the bar, his arm around Liam's. _

_ Niall punched my shoulder lightly, looking quickly behind us to make sure Louis couldn't hear. _

_ “You did the right thing.” _

_ I felt uncomfortable discussing personal matters with most people, and this more than personal conversation was the last thing I wanted to have with an almost stranger. Still, Niall had taken the trouble to look for me to help Louis. It definitely took courage. _

_ "Thanks for calling," I said. “But I want you to know that I would go after him anyway. I couldn't stay away like that anymore.” _

_ Niall took a sip of his beer. _

_ “I figured if you were really like him, you would be about to try again. I called just because I wanted to give you the confidence to get out there and play the bastard the way only you know.” _

_ "I wasn't so much of a bastard," I frowned, thinking about it. “At least, I don't think so.” _

_ "Of course not," Niall said slowly. “You are respect in person.” _

_ Ignoring the provocation, I took my "little boy" drink and sipped it. _

_ “He's so happy today!” Niall murmured, almost to himself. _

_ "He's thin." I looked over to where Louis was standing, ready to throw a javelin. He did look happy, and that made me happy, but the difference in his body was hard to ignore. “Too skinny.” _

_ Agreeing, Niall said: _

_ "He worked out too much and worked too hard." His eyes searched mine for a moment before adding, "The situation was not good, Harry. He was wrecked.” _

_ “Me too.” _

_ He acknowledged this with a small smile. After all, the sadness was gone now. _

_ “So if you're going to keep him in bed for the next few days, just remember to make pit stops for the food.” _

_ I nodded, moving my eyes to the back of the bar, where my boy braced himself, took aim and threw a javelin, which barely hit the wooden board behind the target. He and Liam burst out laughing, stopping just to say something that made them laugh even more. _

_ And as he played and danced to the Rolling Stones, I felt the weight of my love for him turning into a heat in my stomach. Two months apart was nothing compared to what we had ahead of us, but in the context of our history, it seemed like an eternity. I wanted to make up for spending the most time together. _

_ I needed to get close again. I waved to the barwoman and gestured for the bill. _

_ Niall stopped me, raising his hand in front of my face. _

_ “Do not screw it up. He's independent, and he's been alone for so long that he'll never tell you how much he needs you. But he will show you how much he wants it. Louis is a person of actions, not words. I've known him since we were twelve, and you're the right guy for him.” _

_ Two soft arms wrapped around my waist, and I felt Louis kiss me on the back. _

_ “What are you two talking about?” _

_ Niall and I replied at the same time: _

_ “Footie.” _

_ “Politics.” _

_ I felt his laughter and he slid under my arm. _

_ “So you were talking about  _ **_me_ ** _.” _

_ “Yes!” we answered together. _

_ “About how I was finished before and now how happy I look, and how best it is for Harry not to screw up this time.” _

_ Niall looked at me, lifted his beer in a silent toast and then left us alone. Louis turned his blue eyes towards me. _

_ “Did he tell you all my secrets?” _

_ "Not really." I left my drink on the counter and put my arm around him. “Can we go now? I've been away from you too long and I'm reaching the limit of how much I can share with you. I want to be alone with you.” _

_ I felt his laughter like a small tremor in his body, then the soft sound reached my ears. _

_ “You are so demanding.” _

_ “I'm just saying what I want.” _

_ “Right. Be specific. What do you really want?” _

_ “I want you on your knees in my bed. I want you all sweaty and begging.” _

_ "Shit," he whispered, his voice almost gone. “I've reached that point.” _

_ “So damn it, Mr. Tomlinson. Get in the fucking car right away.” _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more flashback!

**• Harry •**

With my hands on the wheel and his on everything else - my thighs, my cock, my neck, my chest - I didn't know if we were going to get home safely.

Especially when he raised my right arm so he could bend down, unzip my pants, pull my cock out and drag his tongue along its length. I wanted to get to his apartment, but shit, this was already too good.

“Oh God…” he murmured, before taking me entirely in his mouth.

"Holy shit," I stammered, entering the right lane and slowing down.

Once again, everything seemed so perfect: his hands and mouth working in sync, little moans vibrating in me and sounding like there was nothing he wanted more than to feel that way. He started out slowly, with long sucking and teasing little licks, looking at me darkly until I thought I would lose my mind. But he understood my expression, as he always did, knowing when not to stop, when to increase speed, when to squeeze gently. His excitement was what made me even crazier; his gaze became pleading, his breathing labored and his moans more frantic. Too early, I was already gripping the steering wheel tightly, panting and begging, and finally cursing loudly when I came in his mouth.

I don't know how I managed to drive the car on the street, or how I parked it, but my shaking hands somehow accomplished the feat. He kissed my belly, then rested his forehead on my thigh and the car went completely silent. It wasn't exactly how I imagined being with him again, but the hurried and spontaneous way it happened... that was our face.

When he leaned on my arm to sit, I took the time to zip up and close my belt.

"Wait a minute," he said, looking out the window. His surprised tone lessened the sensual mood a little. “Are we at your place? Why are we here?”

“Did you want to go to your apartment?”

Shrugging, he said:

“I just thought that was where we were going. I have nothing of my own here.”

“I also have nothing in your apartment.”

“But I have extra toothbrushes. Do you have extra toothbrushes?”

**What was he talking about?**

“You can use mine. What's the problem?”

Sighing, he opened the door and murmured:

“Ew!”

"Just to clarify," I said, getting out of the car and following her to the sidewalk, "I brought you here because that's where I wanted to bring you after Los Angeles. I was going to tie you to the headboard and slap you all night. And I still intend to do that, after everything you've put me through.”

Louis stopped on my porch, his back to me. He was confused for several seconds before turning and looking at me.

“What did you say?”

“Didn't you hear?” I said, and when he just kept looking at me, I explained: “Yes, we were separated because I was an idiot. But you were too.”

He narrowed his eyes and his expression became serious. The idea that he was going to explode and yell at me made me both scared and excited. He pressed me against the door, grabbed my tie tightly and pulled until we were face to face. His blue eyes were dark, wide and wild.

“Give me your keys.”

I reached into my pocket, took out the keys and placed them in his hands without question.

I watched as he searched for the keys and was surprised when he found the right one on the first try.

“It has the top lock and…”

He interrupted me, placing his fingertip on my lips.

“Shh. Don't say anything.”

I tried to understand what was going on. Obviously, he didn't expect me to joke about the fact that he made me sick. Perhaps he thought that all this discussion had ended in the conference room where we were reconciled. And I think that, in many ways, this is exactly what happened. I didn't need him to apologize, and I no longer felt the need to apologize. But our separation had resulted in some horrible months, so it also didn't look like the conversation was completely over. So I thought having a  **slapping and kissing** session would be a very appropriate therapy for us.

His hand did not hesitate as he inserted the key into the door. I heard the familiar sound of the lock turning, so he opened the door and pushed me, backward, inside.

"Stay straight and you will find the living room," I offered. “Or go down the hall to my bed.”

I felt him direct me into the living room, moving his eyes between my face, his hand on his tie and the rest of the room. After all, it was the first time he had seen my house.

"Nice place," he whispered, apparently deciding what to do with me. Then he pulled me even closer. “It's so basic. It looks so much... like you.”

"Thank you," I said, laughing. “I guess.”

As if suddenly remembering that he was punishing me for something, he gave me a stern look.

“Stay here.”

He left me there and, although I wanted to know what he was up to, I followed his instructions. After only a few seconds, he returned with one of the chairs from the dining table. He put it behind me, pressed my shoulders and made me sit up.

Then he turned and walked over to my radio, took the remote and looked at the buttons.

“First, turn on the…”

“Shh!” without looking at me, he raised his hand to silence me.

I closed my mouth, my chin tense. Louis was abusing my patience a little. If he hadn't told me to sit down - and I didn't think he was kidding - I would have thrown his body in my lap with his butt up, ready to be slapped.

After only a few moments, a soft, pulsating rhythm filled the room with a hoarse female voice. Louis hesitated beside the stereo, his shoulders moving with his deep, nervous breath.

"Beautiful, come over here," I whispered, hoping he would hear me through the music.

He turned, walked over to me and stopped so close that his thighs touched my knees. My face was aligned with his chest, and I couldn't resist kissing his nipples over his shirt. But Louis pushed my shoulders back.

He followed the movement of my body, moving to mount on my lap. With both hands, he grabbed and started playing with my tie.

"What you said outside..." he whispered. “I think we need to talk better.”

“Right.”

"But if you don't want to do that now, we can go to your room and you can do whatever you want with me." He looked up at my face, studying my reaction. “The conversation can come later.”

"We can talk about anything you want," I swallowed and smiled. “Then I'll take you to bed and do whatever I want.”

I could hardly breathe. I started to unbutton my shirt, but he took my hand and lowered it, raising his eyebrow in silent question.

Slowly, he took off my tie and wrapped it around his wrist like a boxing glove. I was so excited that he was so powerful that I didn't even notice when he moved my hands to the side of the chair. My cock stiffened in an uncomfortable position, and I moved my waist to adjust the angle of my pants, with my heart exploding under my chest.  **What the hell was he doing?**

"Say you love me," he whispered.

My heart was racing and my blood seemed to hammer in my veins.

“I love you. Madly. I am…” I had imagined this a thousand times, but the moment seemed too heavy and my words came out in a single breathless whisper. Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I murmured: “I'm madly in love with you.”

“But you got mad at me when I left.”

I felt a knot in my stomach. Would that turn into a fight? And if it did, would it be a good thing or a bad thing?

Louis leaned forward, kissed my chin, my lips, my face. Then he slid his mouth to my ear.

Then I felt a tightening in my wrists: he had used my tie to tie my hands behind the chair.

"It's okay," he said. “Don't worry. I just want to talk about it.”

He just wanted to talk, wanted to feel comfortable hearing how it all affected me, how angry I was. But did he need to tie me up? I smiled, turning my face to kiss his lips.

“Yes, I was mad at you. My heart was broken, but I was angry too.”

“Tell me why you were angry” his mouth moved away from mine and reached my neck, where he sucked the skin while I thought about the answer.

I felt like our separation had taken place millions of years ago, but at the same time it felt like yesterday morning. The fact that Louis was here, straddling my lap and kissing me, was a reminder that this was, in many ways, a remote past. But the way my chest contorted with the memory of him leaving me... showed that the wound was still fresh and was open.

“You never let me explain or apologize. I called you. I went to your job. I would do anything to fix everything.”

Louis did not answer, nor did he try to defend himself. Instead, he stood up, took a step back, and opened the button on his jeans. He moved the fabric down his thighs and came back to me, running his fingers through my hair and pulling my face against his chest.

"We knew it wouldn't be easy to make the transition between sex-mad and couple-in-love," I said, through the soft fabric of his tank top. “And the first time I screwed up, you left me.”

Within seconds, the shirt was also on the floor. He stood in front of me, naked, except for the red boxer. In the dark room, his skin looked like silk.

**Shit, shit, shit, shit.**

I had just realized that I was in love, and that maybe I was in love for some time, and then you disappeared” I looked in his face, hoping I didn't go too far.

He slid onto my lap, and I wanted more than anything to have my hands free to climb up his perfect thighs. But I could only look at where his legs opened above me, just inches from my cock.

"I'm really sorry," he whispered. I blinked, surprised. “I wouldn't change anything, because I did what I needed to do at the time. But I know I’ve hurt you, and I know it wasn't fair to just stop talking to you.”

I nodded, lifting my chin for him to come over and kiss me. Louis pressed his mouth to mine, soft and wet, and a small moan escaped his lips.

"Thanks for showing up this morning," he said.

“Would you have come to me?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning. After finishing my presentation. I decided that a week ago.”

I groaned and leaned over to kiss him. He arched back, so I ended up kissing his chin and going down to his throat.

“Did you go out with someone else while we were apart?”

I stopped and looked at him, jaw dropping.

“What? Are you serious? No!”

A smile spread across his face.

“I just needed to hear it.”

“If you let another man touch you, Louis, I swear to God, I…”

“Calm down, tigger” he pressed two fingers to my mouth. “I didn't.”

I closed my eyes, kissing his fingers and nodding. That offensive image slowly evaporated from my head, but my heart didn't slow down at all.

I felt his breath on my neck before I heard him ask:

“Did you think of me?”

“Several times every minute.”

“Did you think about eating me?”

All the words are gone from my mind. Every word in the dictionary evaporated and I snuggled under Louis, wanting him so intensely in this vulnerable and silent moment that I was afraid of going crazy the instant he took off my pants.

"Not at first," I managed to say at last. “But after a few weeks, I tried.”

“Did you try to touch yourself and think about me? As if your hand could replace me?”

I watched his expression change from curious to predatory before answering:

“Yes.”

“Did you come?”

“My God, Louis...” Why did I get so excited when he pressed me like that?

He didn't blink or move as he waited for my answer. He just stared at me.

“Answer.”

I was barely able to hide a smile. He loved playing bossy.

“Sometimes. It was not very pleasant, because you appeared in my mind and it brought me relief, but also frustration.”

"For me too," he said. “I missed you so much it hurt. I missed working, at home, in my bed, I almost couldn't take it. The only times I could get you out of my mind was when I went out to…”

"Run," I whispered. “One can tell. You have lost too much weight.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You too.”

"And I drank too much," I admitted, reminding him that this was not a competition. He didn't need to prove that he did better, because I was sure that was what happened. “The first month of our separation is still a blur in my memory.”

“Liam told me about your condition. He said that I was not being fair by staying away from you.”

**I frowned. Really? Did Liam say that?**

“You did what you needed to do.”

He leaned back and looked at my body, then my eyes. I was curious to see that he looked a little surprised. And a little cheeky.

“You let me tie you up.”

I looked into his face.

“Of course I did.”

“I didn't know if you'd let me. I thought I cheated you... I thought I would say no.”

“Lou, you won me from the first second I saw you. I would have let you tie me up there in the conference room, if you had asked.”

A small smile appeared in the corner of his mouth.

“I would not, if you had asked me.”

“Great,” I tried to get closer to kiss him. “You are smarter than me.”

“I think we both always knew that this is true.”

My desire for him was like strong, constant pain. I was so hard that I could feel every beat of my heart on my cock, but I also felt like my vision was over-saturated with colors: the red of his boxer and lips, the blue of his eyes, the whiteness of his skin. My body screamed, asking for it, but my brain couldn't stop admiring every detail.

“Let me feel you.”

He came back to me, bringing his chest to my mouth. I leaned over and took a nipple to my lips, pinning it with my teeth. Without warning, he got up and walked away, his back to me and casting a devilish look over his shoulder.

“What are you doing, you little devil?” I said panting.

His thumbs hooked on the boxer's waist and he started to lower it, rolling slowly.

No way.

“Don't you dare do that!” I said, freeing my hands from the loose knot he had made. I stood up, looking him up and down, like a storm cloud forming in my living room. “Go to bed. If you think about taking off that boxer, I will take care of myself and you will only be able to lie there watching me come.”

His eyes widened in the middle of the gloom and, without saying a word, he turned and ran to my room.


	4. Chapter 4

**• Harry •**

And with that memory in my mind, my day was officially lost. That night was the most intimate of my life and changed the status of our relationship from "Let's see if it works" to "Totally committed". I will never forget how he turned his vulnerability into a low-key confidence, or how, in the bedroom, he let me turn the tables, tie him to my bed and nibble every inch of his body.

I groaned when I realized I had no idea when we would have such a peaceful night again, so I took out my cell phone.

**_You:_ ** _ Lunch? _

**_Lou:_ ** _ I can't. I have a meeting with Douglas from noon until three. Kill me. _

I looked at the clock. It was eleven thirty-six. I left the phone on the table and went back to the article I was writing for the Journal. It was worthless and I knew it. After two minutes, I took out my cell phone and sent him another message, this time using our secret code.  _ Bat-Signal _ . He replied immediately:

**_Lou:_ ** _ I'm on my way. _

The door on the outside of my office opened, and I could hear Louis' footsteps on the floor of the reception office just next to my office. This was once the place where Louis worked, but when he finished his MBA and returned to Styles Media Group, he moved to his own office in the East wing. Result: my reception was now empty. I tried to work with other assistants, but none worked. Andrea was crying all the time. Jesse tapped his pen on the table and it made me crazy. Bruce couldn't type.

Apparently I should have believed it when they said that Lou was a saint for "holding on to me".

My door opened and he came in, frowning. We used the bat-signal mainly to warn each other about crises at work, and for a moment I wondered if I had exaggerated.

“What happened?” He asked, standing a foot away from me, arms crossed over his chest. I could see that he was prepared to face a professional battle at my side, but the fight I wanted him to face was much more personal.

"Nothing about work," I said, scratching my chin. “I…”

I lost my mind as I watched every part of his face: his eyes focused, his soft lips tight while he was watching, his smooth skin. And, of course, I let my gaze fall towards his waist, the defined curve of his hips, his thighs...

“Are you looking at my thighs?”

“Yes.”

“Did you use the bat-signal to keep looking at my thighs?”

“Settle down, nervous. I used the bat-signal because I miss you.”

His arms fell to his sides and began to nervously straighten his shirt.

“How can you miss me? I slept at your place  _ yesterday _ .”

“I know” I knew that side of him. Always trying to preserve himself.

“And we spent the whole weekend together.”

“Yes. You and me... and Niall. And Shawn. And Gemma. And Ashton. We were not alone. Not as much as we expected.”

Louis turned his head and looked at the window. For the first time in weeks, we had a perfect sunny day, and I wanted to go outside with him and... just sit somewhere.

"I've been missing you all the time lately," he whispered.

The knot in my chest loosened a little.

“Really?” Confirming, he turned to me.

"Your travel schedule sucks." He walked over and raised an eyebrow. “And you didn't kiss me goodbye this morning.”

"Actually, I did," I said, smiling. “You were still sleeping.”

“It doesn't count.”

“Are you looking for a discussion, Mr. Tomlinson?”

He shrugged, trying to hide a smile as he carefully studied my expression.

“We can skip the fight and you can just suck my cock for like ten minutes.”

Without hesitating, he came over and wrapped his arms around me, stretching his body to plunge his face into my neck.

"I love you," he whispered. “And I loved that you sent the bat-signal just because you missed me.”

I was speechless, probably for too long, until I finally managed to stammer:

“I love you too.”

It is not that Louis was not expressive; he was. When we were alone, he was - physically - the most expressive guy I've ever met. But although I often expressed my feelings, I could count on my fingers the times when he uttered the words "I love you". I didn't need him to speak any more; however, each time he said it, it affected me in a deeper way than I expected.

"But seriously," I whispered, struggling to compose myself. “Maybe I just need a quickie on the table.”

He laughed, shaking his head on my neck and reaching for my cock.

I knew this game, and it was perfectly possible that he would do something threatening, which would excite me just as much as it terrified me. But instead of looking me in the eye, he turned his head to suck my neck and whispered:

“I can't go to the meeting with Douglas smelling like sex.”

“You think you don't always smell like sex?”

"I don't always smell like you," he clarified, before licking my neck.

“That's what you think.”

It had been a long time since we last had sex in the office and I couldn't take the urge to own it anymore. I wanted to rip my pants off and rip his shirt off at the waist, then ruin the stacks of papers on my desk, throwing Louis over everything.

Fortunately for me, he started down, kissing my chin up to his neck, then slid down my body to the floor, dropping his jeans slightly, in an almost innocent way, to kneel in front of me. But no... once on the floor, he continued to pull his pants down until he reached mid-thighs. With one hand, he touched himself; with the other, he quickly opened my belt and zipper.

I closed my eyes, needing to calm my mind as he released me and, without hesitation, took my cock in his mouth. My cock was almost completely erect and, with his touch, it grew even more. A hot, wet suction came and went, stronger the second time, as he adjusted to the sensation of having me in his mouth.

I felt his breath quicken in my belly button, and I could hear the sound of his fingers moving, rising and falling on himself.

“Are you touching yourself?”

His head straightened slightly when he confirmed it.

“Were you already hard because of me?”

He stopped for a second, and then raised his hand above his head. I leaned over and sucked on two of his fingers.

_ Shit. _

I was consumed by the clear perception of how much he wanted it. In his fingers, I felt his maximum arousal, and it made my head spin. Since when was he expecting this? The whole day? Since I left this morning? But he didn't let me think too much, he put his hand back on his wet member, going up and down faster than before.

I watched his head move and his lips slide over me. I tried to focus on that to calm myself. But, even when his mouth was on me, or when I was inside him, I always wanted more. It was impossible to possess him in all ways at the same time, but that never stopped me from imagining a hurricane of positions and moans, my hands in his hair and on his waist, my fingers in his mouth and also at his entrance, grabbing his hands, thighs.

When I ran my hands through his hair he knew I wanted it faster, and when my waist started to move, he knew he shouldn't tease, not even a little. At least, not when he had a meeting right after.

In a sudden thought, I remembered that my office was not locked; Louis had come in thinking that we were going to talk about work. The reception door was closed, but it was also not locked.

"Oh, shit," I murmured. For some reason, the idea that we could be caught made it all the more exciting. “Louis…” without further warning, an orgasm came down my back, electrifying and burning, and so intense that it left my legs shaky and my fists gripping his hair. He arched with my tug, his arm moving quickly as he touched himself, making the sounds of his own pleasure hit me, muffled.

Looking down, I realized that he was watching my reaction... of course he was. His eyes widened and showed a sweetness - he seemed fascinated. I'm sure his expression was exactly the same as I did every time I saw him come with my touch. After a pause to catch my breath, I came out of his mouth and knelt on the floor facing him, taking my hand to find his on his pulsing cock. He straightened up and let my fingers take control. He almost fell backwards, his body shaking slightly with a groan. I used my other hand to support him and kissed his lips, moaning at the feeling that they were a little red, a little swollen.

"I'm almost there," he said, wrapping his free arm around my neck.

“I like your need to let me know about it.”

I imagined that one day my touch would become too familiar to him, or that my technique would become tiring, but each time my thumb scraped and pressed against his glans he seemed to feel more intense than before.

"Faster," he whispered almost without a voice. “Please I want…”

He did not finish the thought. And I didn't even need to. I squeezed it and watched as his head fell back, his lips parted and the hoarse, silent sound of his almost-muffled orgasm reverberating through his body.

For a few seconds, we held each other while I breathed through his hair, trying to imagine that we were somewhere else, perhaps in my living room or in my bedroom, certainly not on the floor of my office with the door unlocked.

Seeming to remember this at the same time as me, Louis pulled his boxers and pants up, then took my hand for me to lift. As usual, I was struck by the silence around me, and I wondered if we were as discreet as we thought.

He looked around, still slightly out of breath, and gave a lazy smile.

“Now it will be even more difficult to stay awake at the meeting.”

"I don't care," I murmured, bending down to kiss his neck.

When I straightened up, he turned and went into my toilet, pulling up his shirt sleeves to wash his hands. I approached, pressing my chest to his back, and put my hands under the water with his. The soap slipped between our fingers and he rested his head back on my chest. I wanted to spend an hour getting the scent off our fingers, just so I could stay in that position.

“Shall we spend the night at your apartment?” I asked. It was always a difficult decision. My bed was better for playing, but his kitchen was better stocked.

He turned off the water and reached for the towel.

“Your home. I have to wash clothes.”

“Whoever said that romanticism no longer exists…” I also used the towel and kissed him again. He kept his mouth shut and his eyes open, and I pulled away a little.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“Yes. It is true.”

“What?”

“I love you. Maybe I don't say that enough. Maybe that's why you used the bat-signal.”

I smiled, my heart tightening in my chest.

“I know. And that is not why I sent the message. I did it because lately I don't get your exclusive attention, and I'm a greedy asshole. Didn't my mom tell you that I was never good at sharing?”

“After we move to New York, things will calm down and we'll have more time together.”

“In New York? I doubt it!” I said. “And, even if things calm down, wouldn't it be nice if we traveled a little before all this?”

“When?” He asked, then looked around as if his busy schedule filled every surface of the place.

“There will never be a perfect date. And after we move offices, everything will be even more busy, at least for a while.”

Louis laughed and shook his head.

“Well, I can't think of a worse time. Maybe at the end of the summer?” With a quick kiss, he turned around, took my cell phone off the table and opened his eyes wide when he saw the time. “Need to go!” he said, kissing me once more before leaving.

And the matter died there.

But the word  _ vacation  _ continued in my mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**• Louis •**

I had big plans for tonight: make dinner, eat with Harry, finally decide which apartment to rent in New York, discuss what to bring from his house and apartment, find out how to make time to pack everything.

Oh, and spend the remaining eight hours rediscovering every inch of my beautiful bastard’s body. Twice.

But that was the itinerary before he came through his door and found me cooking. Before throwing his coat and keys on the couch and practically run across the room. Before grabbing me from behind and sucking on the skin under my ear like he haven't seen myself in weeks.

So it goes without saying that my planning has been dramatically reduced.

One: dinner. Two: take our clothes off.

Even so, Harry seemed inclined to skip steps.

“We won't be able to eat at this rate!” I said, letting my head fall back while he kissed my neck. I felt his hot breath on my skin and the knife I was holding fell into the sink.

_ “AND...?” _ He whispered, pressing his hips to my ass before turning me around to face me.

The closet was hard on my back. Harry was hard in front of me. He loomed over me and ran his lips over my neck.

“And…” I mumbled. “Food isn't even that important.”

He laughed softly, sliding his hands down my sides until he reached my hips.

“Exactly. My God, it feels like I haven't touched you in weeks.”

"It was this afternoon," I corrected him, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. “It was this afternoon, remember? When did I suck you in your office?”

“Ah yes. I think I remember something like that. But my mind is just a blur. Who knows, you might not refresh my memory? Tongue... dick…”

“What a way to talk, Styles! Does your mom know you have a dirty mouth?”

He laughed.

“From the way she looked at us both after we had sex in my cousin's wedding locker, I would say yes.”

“I haven't seen you in two weeks!” I said, feeling my face heat up. “Don't be so convinced, you ass.”

"I'm your ass," he said, kissing my lips for a long time. “Don't pretend you don't like it” I couldn't deny it. Harry spent most of his time outside London lately, but he was all mine. He never left any doubt about it. “And speaking of asses…” he reached out and squeezed my ass tightly “you have no idea what I'm going to do with yours tonight…”

I started to answer - to argue or say something smart - but I couldn't think of anything.

“My God. You are speechless!” He said, his eyes wide with surprise. “If I had known that it was enough to have a little peace and quiet, I would have spoken long ago.”

“I... umm…” I opened and closed my mouth a few times, but nothing came out. This was new. When the oven bell rang, I forced myself to step aside, still a little shaken.

I took the bread out of the oven and drained the pasta water, feeling Harry move behind me again. He hooked his chin on my shoulder and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"You smell very good," he said. His mouth went back to working on my neck, while his hands began a slow descent to the hem of my baggy pants. I was more than excited to let him continue.

But instead, I made a gesture showing the cutting board.

“Can you finish the salad for me, please?”

He grunted and released me, muttering something as he started to work across the counter.

A cloud of garlic-smelling steam rose from the bowl when I poured the pasta and sauce together, trying to clear my mind. As usual, this was impossible when he was around. There was something about Harry Edward Styles that seemed to suck in all the air around me.

I was taken aback by the strength with which I fell in love with him, and lately I missed him a lot when we weren't together. Sometimes, alone in my empty room, I would say out loud, "How was your day?" "My new assistant is hilarious." Or: "Has my apartment always been that quiet?".

On other days, after putting on his nightshirt for so long that the smell was gone, I went out and went to his house. I sat in the big chair overlooking the lake and wondered what he was doing. I wondered if it was possible for him to feel for me at least a fraction of the longing I felt for him.  _ God! _ I had never understood people who acted that way when boyfriends and girlfriends traveled. Until then, I thought it was just a great opportunity for a good night's sleep and a few hours of tranquility.

Somehow, Harry managed to infiltrate all parts of my life. He was still the stubborn and obsessed man ever, and I loved the fact that he hadn't changed just because we were together. He treated me as an equal, and although I knew he loved me more than anything, he never gave me any time off. So I loved him even more.

I took the dishes to the table and looked back over my shoulder. Harry was still grumbling as he sliced the tomatoes.

“Are you still complaining?” I asked.

“Of course!” He brought the salad and slapped my ass before pulling the chair for me to sit.

He served us the wine and sat across from me. He watched me while I took a sip; looked at my lips and went up to my face. A sweet smile appeared in the corner of his mouth - from those that expose the damn dimples - but then he seemed to focus again, as if he were remembering something.

“I wanted to ask for a long time: how's Liam doing?”

Liam Payne had graduated from the same MBA as me, but had left SMG to work at another company. He was one of my best friends, and Harry had offered him the position of Chief Financial Officer at the new branch, but he had refused, as he did not want to leave his life and family in London. He didn't blame him, of course, but the big day was approaching and we still hadn't found anyone for the job, and I knew he was starting to worry.

I shrugged, remembering the conversation we had earlier. Liam's asshole boyfriend was photographed kissing a woman, and now it looked like he finally saw something that everyone already knew: Zayn was an idiot and a traitor.

“He's fine, I think. Zayn goes on to say it was a setup. The woman's name still appears in newspapers and magazines every week. You know Liam. He is not going to show the world what he is feeling, but I know he is completely devastated because of it.”

He agreed.

“Do you think he will finally put an end to this? Will he finally stop accepting Zayn's excuses?”

“Who knows? They've been together since he was twenty-one. If you haven't left it by now, you may never leave.”

“I wish I had followed my intuition and punched him in the face at the Smith House event last month. What a stupid asshole.”

“I tried to convince Liam to move to New York, but... he is so stubborn!”

“Stubborn? I can't believe you are such good friends…” he said, ironic. I threw a tomato at him.

* * *

The dinner conversation was all about work, about fixing the new offices and all the pieces that still needed to fit together for this to work. We started to discuss whether his family should return to New York before the branch opened, and I asked:

“When did your father return to London?”

I waited a moment, but when Harry didn't respond, I looked at him and was surprised to see him moving his food back and forth on the plate.

“Is everything okay there, Haz?”

A few seconds of silence passed before he answered:

“I miss having you working for me.”

I felt my eyes widen.

_ “What?” _

“I know. It also doesn't make any sense to me. We were terrible at each other and the situation was impossible” damn, that was a big understatement. The fact that we worked in the same office for ten months, without a bloodbath taking place, still surprised me. “But…” he continued, looking at me from across the table “I saw you every day. It was predictable. Consistent. I teased you and you teased me. It was the most fun time I've ever had at work. And I underestimated the importance of that.”

I put my wine glass down on the table and looked into his eyes, feeling an overwhelming wave of affection for that man.

"It... makes sense," I said, searching for the right words. “I don't think I realized the importance of seeing you every day either. Even though I wanted to poison you on twenty-seven different occasions.”

"Ditto," he replied, with a small smile. “And sometimes I feel guilty for my fantasies of throwing you out the window. But I certainly plan to make up for it all today” he picked up his glass and took a long drink.

“Really?”

“For sure. I have a list.”

I raised my eyebrow in silent question.

"Well, I'm going to take off your pants first." He leaned over to look under the table.

I watched as he straightened up and leaned back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. The weight of his attention made my skin crawl. Anyone else would be intimidated - I still remembered the time when it happened to me too - but now all I felt was adrenaline, an excitement that left my chest and reached my stomach, hot and heavy.

"And that shirt," he continued, his eyes on my chest now. “I want to rip and hear the sound of the fabric unraveling in my wrists.”

I crossed my legs and swallowed. He imitated my movement, with a smile slowly rising at the corners of his mouth.

"Then maybe I will lay you down on the table," he leaned on the table, testing his robustness. “I'll put your legs on my shoulders and fuck you with my tongue until you beg for my dick.”

I tried not to show a reaction, I tried to escape his gaze. But I could not. I cleared my throat and felt my mouth dry.

"You could have done that last night," I said, teasing him.

“No. Yesterday we were tired and I just wanted to feel you come. Today, I want to go slow, take your clothes off, kiss every place on your body... and fuck you. And look at you fucking me.”

_ Is it getting hot around here? _

“You are very confident, aren't you?” I asked.

“Surely.”

“And what makes you think that I also don't have a list?” I stood up, ignored the dessert and walked until I was facing him. His cock was already hard and pressed against tight pants. He followed my gaze and smiled back, his pupils so black and dilated that they almost erased the green around them.

I wanted to rip my clothes off and feel the warmth of his gaze on my skin. I wanted to wake up in the morning exhausted, full of marks and still with the memory of his fingers pressing inside my body. How could he, with just a look and a few dirty words, make me feel this way?

Harry overturned his chair and I positioned myself between his legs, reaching out to fix his hair - that eternal hair of someone who just had sex. The soft strands slid between my fingers and I tilted his head back, bringing his eyes to mine.  _ I missed you so much _ , I wanted to say.  _ Stay. Don't go away from me. I love you. _

The words got stuck in my throat and only a "hello" managed to escape.

Harry tilted his head to the side, increasing his smile as he looked at me.

“Hi” his warm hands grabbed my waist and pulled me close. He laughed at my lonely word, and I knew he understood my mind as if it were an open book, seeing each thought as clearly as if it were written on my forehead in ink. It's not that I felt uncomfortable saying "I love you", it's just that everything was so new! I had never said this to anyone, and at times I felt scared, as if I needed to open my chest and give up my heart.

His hand went up and landed on my chest, his thumb scraping and caressing a sensitive nipple.

"I can't stop thinking about what's under that stupid shirt," he said.

I gasped and felt my nipples stiffen under the light, faded, worn-out fabric. He laughed and took mine by the shoulders, unwrapping it slowly, as if it were a gift. Long fingers moved to the waist of my pants, invading the space where the rubber band pressed lightly against my skin. He did as promised, running the fabric slowly down my legs to my feet, leaving me with only my black boxers.

The air conditioning turned on automatically and a low sound spread through the apartment, bringing a breath of cold air that enveloped my skin. Harry pulled me onto his lap, with my legs wrapped around his body. The rough fabric of his pants scraped against the nakedness of my thighs and my ass. I should have felt vulnerable like that - me in so little clothes, he was all dressed up - but I enjoyed the moment. It felt a lot like our first night together at his house, after my introduction, after we admitted that I didn't want to be apart anymore and he let me tie him up so that I would have the courage to hear how much I hurt him.

And then I realized that this position was intentional. And I suspected that he was also thinking about that night. His eyes shone with so much desire, so much adoration, that I couldn't help feeling a sense of power, as if there was no request from me that the man would not heed.

I reached for the buttons on his shirt, wanting to see him naked above me, behind me - in all positions. I wanted to taste it, scratch its skin and then go through the marks with my fingers, lips and teeth. I wanted to lay him on the table and have sex with him until any thought about leaving that room was just a distant memory.

Somewhere in the house, a cell phone rang. We froze and were silent, just waiting, wishing it was just a mistake and the call would stop quickly. But that high-pitched touch - a sound that was already very familiar to me - filled the space again.  _ Work _ . It was the emergency call. And not a common emergency - it was a real emergency. Harry swore, resting his forehead on my chest. My heart was beating fast and my breathing felt too fast and too loud.

"Shit, sorry," he said when the ringing continued. “I need…”

“I know” I stood up, using the back of the chair to support my wobbly legs.

Harry rubbed his hands over his face before getting up, crossing the room and taking his cell phone out of the coat pocket he had left on the couch.

"Hello," he said, and then he just listened.

I bent down to pick up and put on my t-shirt, found my pants and pulled them up to my waist. I took the dishes to the kitchen while he spoke. I was trying to give him privacy, but I started to get worried when I heard his voice getting louder and louder.

“What do you mean  _ they don't know where it is _ ?” he screamed. I leaned against the door and watched as he paced back and forth in front of the wide wall full of windows. “The meeting is tomorrow and someone lost the main file? Is there no one else to take care of this?” A pause followed and I could have sworn I saw his blood pressure rise. “Are you kidding?” another pause. Harry closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. “Right. I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

When he hung up, he stopped for a moment before looking at me.

"Okay," I said.

“No, it's not.”

Was he right. It wasn't all right. It sucked.

“Is there no one else who can take care of this?”

“Who? I cannot entrust something so important to those incompetent idiots. The Timbk2 account will be launched tomorrow and the marketing team cannot find the file with the financial specifications” he stopped and shook his head, then took his coat. “God, we need someone in New York who knows what to do. Sorry, Lou.”

Harry knew how much we both needed that night, but he also had a job to take care of. I knew that better than anyone.

"Go," I said, shortening the distance between us. "I'll be here when you're done." I handed him the keys and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him.

“In my bed?”

I agreed.

“Put on my shirt.”

“Just your shirt.”

“I love you.”

I smiled.

“I know. Now go and save the world.”


	6. Chapter 6

**• Harry •**

You got to be kidding.

I turned the key in the ignition and accelerated until the RPM indicator reached red. I wanted to burn the asphalt, leaving the black tire mark on the street as a sign of my frustration.

I was tired.  _ Shit _ , I was really tired, and I hated having to clean up other people's messes at work. I had been working for twelve, fifteen, hell, up to eighteen hours a day for months, and the only night I was able to put everything aside and have time with Louis at home, I get an emergency call.

I paused when that word reverberated in my mind: home.

Whether it was at my house or his, whether going out with friends or going to that Chinese restaurant he liked so much, I felt at home with him. The strangest part was that the house that had cost me a fortune had never felt like home until he started spending time there. Did he also feel that his home was wherever we were together?

We hadn't even had a chance to choose where we were going to live in New York yet. We found a good place for SMG, made a map with all the new offices, designed the plans, planned the renovations and hired a designer... but we didn't choose an apartment to live in.

Which was the biggest sign that old habits die hard, because in reality, my relationship with him had completely changed my relationship with work. Just a year ago, I was committed to just one thing: my career. Now, what mattered most to me was Louis, and whenever my career got in the way of my time with him, it consumed me inside. I don't even know specifically when it happened, but I suspect that the change came long before I admitted it. Maybe it was the night Joel went to dinner at my parents'. Or maybe the next day, when I dropped to my knees in front of him and apologized in the only way I knew how. Maybe it was even before all that, the first night I kissed him, desperately, in the conference room, in my weakest moment.  _ Thank God I was such an idiot! _

I looked at the clock on the panel. The date, lit up in red, hit me like a punch in the chest: May 5th. Exactly a year ago, I had watched Louis get off the plane from Los Angeles, his shoulders hunched in anger and pain that I practically threw him under a bus after he saved my skin with a client. The next day, he resigned and left me. I blinked my eyes, trying to get that memory out of my mind. He came back, I reminded myself. We had been on target for the past eleven months, and despite all my frustration with the work schedule, I had never been happier. He was the only one I wanted.

I remembered the last time I ended a relationship, with Sylvie, almost two years ago. Our courtship started as an escalator: with a solitary first step and then automatically moving in the same direction. We started in a friendly way and quickly entered physical intimacy. The situation worked perfectly for me, as she offered me company and sex, and never asked for anything other than what I offered. When we finished, she admitted that she knew I wouldn't give anymore. She said that, for a time, sex and intimacy were enough, but that was not enough anymore.

After a long hug and a last kiss, I let her go. I went to dinner alone and in silence at my favorite restaurant, and then went straight to bed, where I slept all night. No drama. No heartbreak. It was all over and I closed the door on that part of my life, completely ready to move on. Three months later, I returned to London.

It was funny to compare that time to my reaction when I lost Louis. I practically became a beggar, without eating, without bathing and surviving entirely on whiskey and self-pity. I remember being obsessed with every detail that Liam brought me about Louis - how he looked, how he was dealing with everything - from which I tried to guess if he missed me and was as miserable as I was.

The day Louis returned to SMG, coincidentally, was Liam's last day at the company. Although we had made up, Lou had insisted that he should continue to sleep in his house and I in mine, so that we could get some rest. Then, after a chaotic morning, I went into the break room and found Louis attacking a packet of almonds and reading some marketing reports. Liam was heating up some leftovers in the microwave, after refusing our attempts to prepare a big farewell lunch. I had gone over there for a cup of coffee, and the three of us were quiet for about fifteen minutes.

Then, finally, I broke the silence.

_ "Liam," I said, feeling the volume of my voice too loud. His eyes turned to me, wide and clear. “Thanks for looking for me the day Louis left. Thanks for updating me whenever I could. For that, and other reasons, I'm sorry that you’re leaving.” _

_ He shrugged, running a hand through his hair and giving me a small smile. _

_ “I'm just happy to see you two together again. Things were too quiet around here. And by "quiet", I mean "boring". And by "boring", I mean no one shouting or calling the other an awful bastard” he coughed and took a sip of his drink, in a loud and almost comical way. _

_ Louis groaned. _

_ "It won't happen again, I assure you," he threw an almond in his mouth. “He may not be my boss anymore, but he definitely still loves to scream.” _

_ Laughing, I took a look at his ass when he bent down to get a bottle of water from the bottom of the refrigerator. _

_ "Still," I said, turning back to Liam, "I thank you for keeping me updated. Without that, I would probably go crazy.” _

_ Liam's eyes relaxed, and when he started to move his fingers restlessly, I realized that he was a little uncomfortable with my rare display of feelings. _

_ “As I said, I'm glad it worked. That kind of thing is worth fighting for.” He lifted his chin and gave Louis a final smile before leaving the room. _

The happiness I felt after Louis's return made it easy to ignore the whispers that followed us through the company's corridors. I had my office and he now had his, and we were both determined to prove to everyone (and ourselves) that we could make it up.

We managed to be apart for almost an entire hour.

_ "I missed you," he said, entering my office and closing the door. “Do you think they will give me my old room back?” _

_ “No. As much as I like that idea, it would be completely inappropriate.” _

_ "I was kind of kidding." He rolled his eyes and paused, looking around. I could almost see the memories coming back to him: when he let me fuck him on the table, when I made him come with my fingers to distract him from his worries and, I imagine, every time we sat together in the office, not to mention what we should have said so long ago. _

_ "I love you," I said. “I love you for a long time.” _

_ He blinked his eyes, came over and kissed me. Then he pulled me into the bathroom and begged me to make love to him against the wall at midday on a Monday. _

As I entered the office garage and parked in my parking space, I remembered Liam's words. These things are worth fighting for. Liam followed his own advice with London's worst womanizer. He took care of me when he knew I was lost without Louis. In comparison, I let Liam continue with a man I knew was unfaithful, all because I felt that interfering was not my role. Where would I be if Liam had thought the same?

Asking me what that attitude said about me, I got out of the car and went into the main hall. The night guard waved and went back to reading his newspaper as I walked to the elevators.

The building was so empty that I could hear every sound from the machines around me. The pulleys worked and the elevator made a small noise when it reached the 18th floor.

I knew that no one else was there. The team was turning around to find the latest version of the file, and in the midst of their panic they were probably looking at everyone's personal laptops. I doubt anyone would have thought of going over there and checking the work servers.

In the end, I had to leave Lou at home because of a job that only lasted twenty-three minutes, which is why my mood on Monday was terrible. I hated having to do others' work. The contract had been named wrong and - exactly as I suspected - placed in the wrong folder on the server. In fact, a physical copy was on my desk, where someone with competence could have found it, and saved my trip there. I sent the file to one of my marketing executives and made several copies of the document, highlighting those responsible on the first page and leaving a copy on the desk of each of those involved before finally leaving. In a way, it was a very silly gesture on my part. But this is what they get when they take me from Louis.

I knew that these little inconveniences irritated me more than usual, but it is this kind of detail that defines a team. And that was exactly why I would need an extremely competent person in the New York office. Back in the car, I mumbled as I started the engine, knowing it was just one more thing I would need to work on the next month.

With my current mood, I couldn't go back to Louis. I was just going to be an angry and surly company... and not in a fun way.  _ God, I just wanted to be with him. Why did this have to be so difficult? _ We already had so little time the way things were, I didn't want to waste any more time being stressed out with work, looking for an apartment, looking for someone who could work without needing a babysitter. We complained about not seeing each other as much as we wanted to, working so hard... So, why didn't we just... fix it? We could travel. Louis thought this was a bad time, but when would the time be good? Nobody would just give us free time, and since when am I the type of person who waits for something to happen?

Fuck that.

“Wake up to life, Harry!” My voice echoed inside the car and, after a quick glance at the clock, to make sure I wasn't calling too late, I took out my cell phone and dialed the number. I drove out of the garage and onto the avenue.

After six calls, Max's voice came over the car's speakers.

“Speak, Harold!”

I smiled, speeding away from work and heading to one of the most familiar places in the world for me.

“Max, how are you?”

“Okay. Everything's good. And what is all this stuff I'm hearing about you moving your stuff to New York?”

I nodded and said:

“Yeah, we'll be there in just over a month. We're going to be between Fifth Avenue and 50th Street.”

“Perfect, it's close to my office. We'll meet when you arrive…” His voice suddenly disappeared.

"Yes, yes, absolutely," I hesitated, knowing that Max was probably wondering why I called him at half past eleven on a Tuesday. “Look, Max, I wanted to ask a favor.”

“Say it.”

“I wanted to travel a little with my boyfriend and…”

_ “Boyfriend?” _ His laugh filled the car. I laughed too. I was sure I had never introduced anyone to Max that way.

“Louis, yes. We work at SMG and we are stuck up to the neck with the Papadakis campaign. Everything's been going well so far, and maybe we'll find some time before we move…” I hesitated again, feeling the words run away from me. "Would it be too crazy if I hired someone to make our move and find a place for us in New York while the two of us just... ran away for a few weeks? Just to get out of town?”

“That doesn't sound crazy to me, Harold. In fact, it seems like the best way to stay healthy.”

“I also think. And I know it's impulsive, but I was thinking of taking Louis to France. I was wondering if you still have that house in Marseille, and if we could rent it for a few weeks.”

Max was laughing silently.

“Yes, I still have it. But forget about the rental thing, you can use it without worry. I'll give you the address right now and ask Ines to go and clean it for you. The place has been empty since I spent Christmas there” he paused. “When are you thinking of going?”

The tightness in my chest seemed to break when the plan began to solidify in my mind.

“This weekend?”

“Sure, I'll take care of everything. When you have your flight details, send it to me. I'll call her tomorrow morning and tell her to meet you there with the keys.”

“This is fantastic. Thanks, Max. I owe one.”

I could practically see his smile when he said:

“I will remember this.”

* * *

I felt relaxed for the first time in decades and turned up the volume on the radio, imagining the two of us getting on the plane, with nothing ahead of us except sunny afternoons, long lazy mornings in bed and the best food and wine the world could offer.

But I needed to make one more stop. I knew it was too late to go to my parents' house, but I had no choice. My mind was spinning with plans and I couldn't go to bed until every detail was decided.

On the twenty-minute drive to their home, I called and left a message for my travel agent. Then I left a message for my sister Gemma saying she would be traveling for three weeks. And I didn't allow myself to imagine her reaction. We had a new office, everything at work was already prepared and the packaging could be done by someone else. I left a message for each of my senior executives talking about my plan and what I expected from each other in my absence. And then I rolled down the windows and let the cold night air envelop me, taking all my stress away.


	7. Chapter 7

**• Harry •**

Parking in front of my parents' house, I laughed as I remembered the first time that Louis and I had come here as a couple.

Three days have passed since his MBA presentation. For two days, God, we hardly left my house or my bed. But after my family's constant calls and messages inviting us to dinner and asking me to share a little bit of Louis, we agreed to meet them at my parents' house. Everyone missed him.

_ We talked a lot during the trip, laughing and teasing, my free hand intertwined with his. With the fingers of his other hand, he absently made small circles on the top of my wrist, as if to make sure it was all real, that I was real, that we were real. We had not yet faced the outside world, with the exception of the first night, when we went out with his friends. The transition would certainly be a little strange. But I never imagined that Louis would be anxious about it. He had always faced every challenge with his own dose of courage. _

_ Only when we were standing in front of the house and I was opening the door did I realize that his hand was shaking. _

_ “What's it?” I let go of his hand and turned to face me. _

_ He shrugged. _

_ “Nothing. I am fine.” _

_ “Who do you want to kid?” _

_ He gave me an annoyed look. _

_ “I am fine. Just open the door soon.” _

_ “Wow!” I said, surprised. “Louis Tomlinson is really nervous.” _

_ This time he stopped to look me straight in the eye. _

_ “Did you notice? My God, you are a genius. Someone should hire you as CEO and give you a big, fancy office” so he reached out to open the door. _

_ I stopped him from turning the handle and a sly smile spread across my face. _

_ “Louis?” _

_ “It's just that I haven't seen them since... you know. And they know how you looked when…” he gestured around, and I understood what he meant  _ **_when Harry was in complete disaster after Louis left._ ** _ “Just... let's try not to do any drama, okay? I'm fine” he added. _

_ “I'm just enjoying this rare sight of nervous Lou. Give me a second, I want to seize the moment.” _

_ “Go fuck yourself.” _

_ “Do you want to fuck me?” I took a step towards him, until his body was pressed against mine. “You are trying to seduce me, Mr. Tomlinson?” _

_ Finally, he laughed, his shoulders giving up his tense determination. _

_ “I just don't want it to be…” _

_ The front door suddenly opened and Gemma appeared, giving Louis a big hug. _

_ “There you are!” _

_ Louis looked at me over my sister's shoulder and laughed. _

_ "... embarrassing," he added, wrapping his arms around Gems. _

_ My parents were standing behind the door, showing the biggest smiles I have ever seen. My mom's eyes were strangely wet. _

_ "You stayed away too long," Gemma said, letting go of my boyfriend and looking at me. I grunted in my mind and realized that that night could quickly turn into a reissue of the soap opera "How poor Louis suffered at the hands of cruel Harry" - and Mr. Tomlinson would be completely omitted from the story. _

_ Good thing he looked amazing in that black skinny. I needed a distraction. _

_ I had called my father the morning of Louis' presentation, saying that I intended to show up there and convince him to present the Papadakis account. I also said that I would ask him to take me back. As usual, my father supported me, but in a reserved way, saying that whatever Louis answered, he was proud of me for going after what I wanted. _

_ "What I wanted" was now walking into the house and hugging my mom and dad, before looking at me. _

_ "I don't know why I was worried," he whispered. _

_ “Were you nervous?” My mom asked, wide-eyed. _

_ “I just disappeared so suddenly. I felt guilty about it and for going so long without seeing any of you…” _

_ “No, no, no, you needed to get along with Harry's bore!” Gemma said, ignoring my irritated sigh. “Believe us, we understand.” _

_ "Come on," I growled, pulling him back. “We don't need to do drama.” _

_ "I already knew," my mother whispered, placing her hands on Louis's face. “I already knew.” _

_ “What the hell, mom!” I approached and hugged her, before making a face at her. “Did you know that even when you arranged dinner with Joel?” _

_ “Haven't you ever heard  _ **_use it soon or clear the bush_ ** _?” Gemma said. _

_ "That's not the phrase I would use, Gemma Styles." My mom shot her an angry look and then wrapped her arm around Louis, leading him down the hall. And he turned to speak to me over his shoulder. “I thought if you didn't want to see what was in front of you, then someone else deserved a chance.” _

_ "Poor Joel never had a chance," my father murmured, surprising everyone and apparently himself. He lifted his head and started laughing. “Someone needed to say that.” _

Getting out of the car, I smiled at the memory of the rest of the night: the ten minutes we all laughed and shared our stories about having a food infection at inopportune moments, the unbelievable  _ crème brûlée  _ that my mother served for dinner and, later, the way like me and Louis, we barely made it home and fell into a tangle of legs and arms on the floor of my living room.

I turned the handle on the front door, knowing that my father would be awake, but hoping not to wake my mother. The doorknob squeaked and I pushed the door with the usual care, lifting it slightly where I knew the wood was scraping on the floor.

But to my surprise, my mother greeted me at the entrance, wearing her old purple robe and holding two cups of tea.

"I don't know why," she said, offering me a cup, "but I was sure you were going to be here today."

“Mother's intuition?” I said, accepting the cup and kissing her cheek. I lingered for a while, trying to keep my emotions in check.

"Something like that." Tears streamed from her eyes and she turned away before I could say anything. “Come, I know why you are here. It's in the kitchen.”


	8. Chapter 8

**• Louis •**

“And are you sure that we will get the signatures in time?” I asked my assistant, who checked her watch and wrote something in her notebook.

“Yes. Aaron is coming right now. They will be here until noon.”

"Great," I said, closing and returning the files. “Let's take a last look before the meeting and, if all goes well…”

The reception door opened and Harry came in with a very determined look. My assistant uttered a terrified exclamation and I made a gesture dismissing her. She practically ran away.

Harry's long legs carried him across the room in a few steps. He stopped in front of my desk and threw two white envelopes on top of a stack of marketing reports.

I looked at the envelopes and then at his face.

"Something here looks very familiar," I said. “Who among us is going to open the door wide and run down the stairs?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Just open it.”

“Good morning to you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Lou, don't be moody.”

“Why? Only you have that right?”

His gaze became softer and he leaned over the table to kiss me. The night before he had come home late, and I had been asleep for a long time. I woke up to the sound of the alarm clock and found his body naked and warm next to mine. I deserved some kind of medal for getting out of that bed.

“Good morning Mr. Tomlinson” he said softly. “Now, open the damn envelopes.”

“If you insist. But don't say I didn't warn you. Generally, when you throw something at my table, things never go well. Well, at least not for me. Maybe you can fix this…”

_ “Louis.” _

“Okay, okay” I opened the envelope that had my name on it and pulled out a paper. “It's a plane ticket. London to France” I looked into his face. “Will the company send me somewhere?”

Harry seemed to shine and, frankly, he looked so handsome that I was relieved to be sitting.

“France. Marseille, to be exact. The other passage is also there.”

Air tickets, an envelope for each of us. Departure scheduled for Friday. It was Tuesday.

“I do not understand. Are we going to France? Does this have anything to do with last night? We have a busy life, Harry. That kind of thing will always happen. I swear I didn't get mad.”

He circled the table and knelt in front of me.

“No. It has nothing to do with last night. It has to do with many nights. It has to do with putting what matters first. And this” he said, pointing at us “this is what matters. We’ve barely seen each other lately, Lou, and that won’t change when we get to New York. I love you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too. But... I'm a little surprised. France is... really far, and we still have so much to do and…”

“It's not just France. We are going to a private house, a country house. It belongs to a friend of mine, Max, the one who went to college with me, remember? It is a beautiful, large, empty house,” he added. “With a giant bed, several beds. A pool. We can cook and walk around naked, and we don't even have to answer the phone if we don't want to.  _ Come on, Lou-lou _ .”

"I loved this cooking-and-walking-naked part," I said. “Well, it is with this argument that you would convince me once and for all.”

He approached, clearly realizing that my resistance was dissolving.

“I am proud to always know my opponent, Mr. Tomlinson. So what you say? We’ll go, right? Please?”

“My God, Harry. It's ten o'clock in the morning and you're killing me with this distant dream.”

“I even thought of drugging you and carrying you over my shoulder, but it would be difficult to go through customs like that.”

I took a deep breath and looked again at the passages.

“Okay, so we go on the 9th and come back... Wait, is this right?”

He followed my gaze.

“What?”

“Three weeks? I can't just throw it all up and travel to France for three weeks, Harry!”

He stood up, confused.

“Why? I managed to fix everything and…”

“Are you serious? Our move is in a month. One month! And we haven't even chosen an apartment yet! And there is my best friend, who last week was betrayed by the biggest stupid man in the world. And let's not forget the little detail called my job. I have meetings and an entire department to hire and ship to New York!”

His expression completely withered; this was certainly not the reaction he was expecting. The sun appeared behind him and when he turned his head, tilting it slightly to the side, his eyebrows and the contours of his face were lit up, forming a beautiful silhouette. A feeling of guilt grew in my chest like a balloon.

“Shit. Sorry” I leaned against him and laid my head on his shoulder. “I didn't mean to say those things that way.”

His strong arms wrapped around me and I felt him sigh.

“I know.”

Harry took my hand and led me to the small table in the corner of the room. He motioned for me to sit and sat in another chair.

“Let's negotiate?” he said, with a defiant look that I haven't seen since he entered my room.

Negotiating was something I could do.

He leaned forward, hands together and elbows on the table.

"The move," he began. “I admit it's a big deal. But we have our real estate agent to help us. I visited the three best options. You just need to decide if you want to see them too or if you trust me for that choice. Just let the agent take care of the rest, and we can pay for our things to be packed and shipped” he raised an eyebrow waiting for my reaction and I motioned for him to continue. “I know how much you care about Liam. Talk to him; find out how he's handling it all. You said you didn't even know if he was going to break up with Z, did you?”

“Yes.”

“Then we'll take care of it when the time is right. As for your work... I am very proud of you, Lou. I know how hard you work and how important you are. But we will never have a perfect opportunity. We will always be busy, there will always be people wanting our attention and there will always be things that seem to be unable to wait. For you, it will be a good exercise to delegate things. I love you, but you suck when it comes to sharing responsibilities. And everything will get even more agitated after the move. When is the next time we get a chance? I want to be with you. I want to speak French with you and make you enjoy a bed in France where no one will come over the weekend or call us about work.”

"It's getting harder and harder to be the responsible adult here," I said.

“Being responsible isn't even that important.”

I felt my jaw drop and could do nothing but look at him with a silly face. I was almost asking who this kind person was and what I had done with my boyfriend when I heard someone knocking on the door. I took my eyes off a very nice boyfriend and saw a terrified intern come into my office, looking terrified at Harry. 

“Hmm... Excuse me, Mr. Tomlinson” she stammered, looking at me. “They are waiting for Mr. Styles in the conference room of the 12th…”

“Thank you” I replied. She left and I turned to Harry.

“We discussed this later?” He asked quietly as he stood up. I agreed, still slightly disconcerted by his change in attitude.

"Thank you," I said, vaguely showing the tickets, but meaning more.

He kissed my forehead.

“See you later.”


	9. Chapter 9

**• Louis •**

Traveling... has never really been good for Harry and me. Los Angeles was perfect while we were still in our little bubble. So we tried to go back to the real world and everything started to go wrong. In a catastrophic way.

After that, we tried to plan a trip in October, but ended up canceling because of work. We tried again in December; Harry was overwhelmed with work on a large account that was going to be launched before the New Year, and we both had the Papadakis launch in early January. Somehow, I managed to convince him to extend the Christmas weekend and travel with me.

To meet my mother.

Harry at first didn't want to - he was in the last stages of that huge campaign and also had to stay with his own family. And I had spent most of last year complaining to my mom about how my boss was an egocentric idiot, only to later admit that I was screwing that boss. The trip had all the ingredients of a disaster.

_ Harry remained quiet for most of the flight, I knew something was wrong because he didn't suggest having sex in the plane's toilet. _

_ “You are too respectful, Styles. What is happening?” I asked, after we landed, as we headed for the car rental. _

_ “What do you mean?” _

_ “Well, in the last three hours you haven't made any inappropriate comments about me talking about riding, sucking, licking, touching, grabbing, etc., or saying anything complimentary about your dick. It's so quiet that I can practically hear your thoughts and, frankly, I'm a little worried.” _

_ He reached out and slapped my ass. _

_ “Better? And by the way, your thighs are delicious with these pants.” _

_ “Talk to me.” _

_ "I'm going to meet your mother," he said, fixing his collar. _

_ “AND...?” _

_ "And she knows what an idiot I was." I cleared my throat and he looked at me. “I can be.” _

_“Can_ _?” _

_ “Louis.” _

_ "That's part of your charm that everyone knows," I said, winking my eyelashes at him quickly. “Since when do you apologize for that?” _

_ He sighed. _

_ “Since I agreed to meet your mother. And if she has a calendar, she already knows that I was sleeping with you while we worked together.” _

_ “I also had to face your family after all this. I'm sure Ash told Gemma about the Bathroom Incident and if Gemma knows, then Des knows. And if Des knows... oh my God, your mom knows we had sex in her favorite bathroom... while Joel was there to meet me!” I hit my palm on my forehead. _

_ “Yeah! It turns out that my family loves you anyway, the situation here is a little different.” _

_ We arrived at the car rental door and I took his hand, making him stop. _

_ “Look, Jay knows his son. She knows I can be a little difficult at times…” _

_ “There is!” _

_ Now it was my turn to face his face. _

_ “And she knows that I always fight back. You don't have to worry.” _

_ He sighed again and came over to lean his forehead against mine. _

_ “If you really think…” _

* * *

_ In the middle of the snow, my mother whistled as the black Mercedes-Benz we parked in front of her house circulated. _

_ “I always thought that there is only one reason for a man to walk around driving a car like this: make up for something. Don't you agree, Henry?” _

_ "Harry," he corrected in a low voice, before smiling nervously at me. _

_ “It's Christmas, Mom. All four by four cars have already been rented.” _

_ Things did not get better over dinner. _

_ While we were sitting at the table, Mom stared at Harry as if trying to recognize a face she had seen on television. _

_ “Harry, huh? She said, giving him a skeptical look over her wine glass. “What kind of name is that?” _

_ I mumbled: _

_ “Mom.” _

_ “I don't understand why you have to argue with me all the time, Louis. God only knows who you got it from.” _

_ At that moment, Harry started laughing so hard that he had to excuse himself and leave the table. _

_ Later, after winning over Jay by letting her win at Monopoly - as one would believe that Harry Styles lost a game involving money is something I will never know -, Harry left the guest room and slipped into my bed. _

_ "You are going to make her catch us," I said, as I climbed into it. _

_ “Not if you don't make any noise.” _

_ “Hmm. I don't even know how many times Mom caught me trying to leave the house at night when I was in high school, and I was always silent.” _

_ “Can we stop talking about your mother now? This is taking my attention off how sexy it will be to have sex with you in your high school bed. And, my God, Louis. Do you call it pajamas?” He said, grabbing the fabric of my boxer and pulling. With strength. _

_ “Oh my God!” I whispered, wanting to scream. “It was a brand new boxer and…” _

_ "You loved it," he added, smiling. “I'm just doing my part of the tradition.” _

_ I wanted to argue, but: 1) he was right and 2) I was distracted when he slid the torn fabric to the side and stuck a finger inside me, very slowly. He took my waist with his other hand, encouraging me to ride on it. _

_ "That, like that," he said, with his lips parted and his eyes turned to my semi-erect cock. “Shit... take off your shirt.” _

_ Already forgetting about the torn underwear, I obeyed, taking off my shirt and throwing it back. He slid another finger and I accelerated my movements, making the bed squeak slightly. _

_ Harry sat down, whispering "Shh" against my mouth. _

_ “Sit down a little.” _

_ I propped myself up on one knee and watched as he pulled his pajamas down around his waist. _

_ “Are we really going to do this here?” I whispered. The bed was too small, the room was too hot and quiet... and my Mom was in the next room. It would be stupid and inconvenient, but there was nothing in this world that I wanted more than that. _

_ I lit the little lamp so I could see him better. His lips were swollen, his hair was messy and his smile looked ridiculously malicious when he said: _

_ “I fucking love you, you naughty boy. Do you want me to keep looking?” _

_ “Yes.” _

_ "Start masturbating," he ordered. _

_ I obeyed, too slowly to get anywhere, but with perfect speed to make his eyes go wide before he reached out to kiss me. He murmured something on my lips, his tongue moving lazily against mine. He let out little sounds and ran his hands all over my body. His cock slid slowly, entering me. Everything became a blur after that, with the feeling of being completely filled, feeling your breath hot and your skin even hotter. _

_ Harry sucked on my nipple, scraping his teeth on me as I moved over him. I was so oblivious to everything that I didn't even notice the familiar creaking of the bedroom door. _

_ “Oh, for God's sake!” My mother shouted, and suddenly legs and arms and sheets fluttered everywhere trying to cover us. I heard Mom's footsteps as she walked out of the room down the hall, mumbling something about her little boy and sex under her roof and signs of a heart attack. _

_ Well, travels never go very well for both of us. _

* * *

A sense of guilt eroded me for the rest of the morning. I shouldn't have rejected Harry's proposal so quickly. There he was, trying to be flexible, and there I was, telling him to think about work. _ What was wrong with me? _ I tried to find him in the middle of the meetings. I tried to meet him at lunch. The closest I came was when I passed him in the corridor, accompanied by a group of executives who chattered around him with kittens chasing a celebrity.

"I need to talk to you," I said, just moving my lips.

“Bat-signal?” I think it was his answer.

I nodded my head.

“Dinner?”

He nodded, blew me a kiss, and left, carried by the pack towards the elevator.

* * *

“How are things?”

Liam shrugged, dragging another french fry over the ketchup before tossing it in his mouth, but definitely without looking at me.

“Things are fine.”

I was looking at him. Things were always "fine" with Liam.

“Really!” He insisted, leaning back in his chair. “There is so much being said about all this. I'm just trying to understand what is true and what is not.”

"It looks like a good plan," I said.

“I have known him for so long that it is difficult to put everything in place. But honestly, I'm fine.”

“Liam, forgive my meddling, because I think that technically is none of my business, but what you said is the biggest bullshit I've ever heard.”

_ “How is it?” _

“Did you hear me?! This Zayn story is too important! Harry wants to travel with me to France and, in addition to the other two hundred obvious reasons for not going, you are at the top of the list!”

_ “How is it?” _ he repeated, this time a little louder. “Harry wants to take you to France? Oh, my God, this is amazing! But, wait, what do you mean by this story of me being at the top of a list?”

"Yeah, he wants us to take a vacation before the New York madness really starts," I said, before crumpling my napkin and throwing it at him. “But I don't want to suddenly disappear because I'm worried about you!”

Liam laughed, getting up and walking around the table to hug me.

“That's the cutest and stupidest thing anyone has ever said for me. I love you, Lou.”

"But I'm moving," I added, squeezing it tighter. “The next few weeks would be our last days together.”

He sat in the chair next to me.

“I'm a big boy and I can always take a plane to your city. I loved it, I loved knowing that you wanted to stay here and take care of me. But... I think Harry is right” he said, wincing a little. “You need that, and if you can get everything... well, you should throw some sexy clothes in the suitcase and drag that man to France.”

I laughed, leaning on his shoulder.

“God, that would complicate everything. I would have to find someone to do the interviews, attend all of my meetings…”

“But would it be worth it?”

I smiled, remembering how excited Harry had seemed to tell me about the trip, and how his face had withered when I didn't show the same enthusiasm.

“Yes, it would be.”


	10. Chapter 10

**• Harry •**

I rolled over, grabbed my phone on the nightstand and turned off the alarm like a thumb. I was exhausted, having only slept for two hours. I worked almost until two in the morning and then tried to go to bed without waking Louis, but he turned and climbed on top of me before I could say anything.

But it looks like I was going to stop him. I can't really complain about why it cost me another hour of lost sleep, but now, when his hand searched blindly between the sheets, caressing my belly until it reached my cock, I knew that I couldn't let it continue. I had a flight to catch, alone.

He decided to go to France, but he would travel the day after me, insisting very stubbornly that he needed all Friday to take care of the last things. I would wait for him, but since the trip was booked at the last minute, he saw that he hoped there would be no direct flights and no seats side by side. I decided then that I would arrive early to prepare our stay at Max's.

"I don't think we have time," I murmured through his hair.

"I don't believe it," he said, his voice still full of sleep. "This guy here," he said, squeezing my erection, "thinks we have plenty of time.”

“The driver will arrive in fifteen minutes and, thanks to your appetite last night, I need to take another shower.”

“Remember that time you only needed two minutes to come? Are you telling me you don't have two minutes?”

"Morning sex never lasts two minutes," I reminded him. “Not when you're all sleepy, soft and warm like that” I rolled out of bed and walked to the bathroom, listening to the sound of his muffled groan on my pillow.

When I came back, showered and dressed, he sat on the bed, still hugging my pillow and trying to pretend he wasn't upset that we had to go to France on different flights.

"Don't pout," I murmured, bending down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You will only confirm what I always suspected: you don't work well without me.”

I expected him to roll his eyes or pinch me, but he just dropped his eyes to my tie and reached out to make an unnecessary adjustment.

“I can work without you. But I don't like to be away. I feel like you take my home away.”

_ Well, that sucks. _

I threw the suitcase on the bed and took his face in my hands until he looked at me and saw the effect of his own words. He smiled and wet his lips with his tongue.

With one last kiss, I whispered:

“See you in France.”

* * *

I would miss a day on the airlift and arrive on Saturday. Louis's flight would leave just twelve hours after mine, he would have to take the last flight of the day to Paris the next day, arriving in Marseille on Monday. That would give me time to prepare for his arrival, but knowing Max, the house would be spotless and full of food and drink. That is, I would have nothing to do.

An idle Harry... and everything.

I settled down in the first-class cabin, declined the champagne, and took out my cell phone to text him.

**You:** I already embarked. See you on the other side of the ocean.

My cell phone vibrated a few seconds later.

**Boo:** I'm rethinking this trip. I think I'll take a vacation from you.

I laughed and, preferring to ignore the message, I put my cell phone in my coat pocket. Closing my eyes as the other passengers passed me, I remembered our other trips. We traveled together only a few times, but things never went as planned. Did I have a curse against travel? It seemed that we were destined for trips that went off course, that were made separately, that produced terrible discussions... or that were canceled.

I felt my stomach churn when I remembered our attempt to take a Christmas vacation. It should have been perfect, but instead it ended up being the first time that Louis stopped talking to me since our reconciliation.

* * *

_ “Damn stupid son of a bitch!” _

_ I lifted my head, raising my eyebrows to my hair, while Louis slammed the door and ran to my table. _

_ “Did your nightmare come true again, Tomlinson?” _

_ “Almost that. Papadakis wants to advance the launch. I got up so abruptly that my chair was thrown back and hit the wall hard.” _

_ “What?!” _

_ “Apparently, now March is in January. The first press release is scheduled for January 7th.” _

_ “This is a horrible time to launch something like that! Everyone is still drunk or cleaning up the holidays. Nobody goes out to buy fancy apartments.” _

_ “That's what I said to Big George.” _

_ “Did you also tell him to just keep counting the greenbacks and leave the marketing with us?” _

_ He laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. _

_ “I think I used exactly those words. Along with other mafia terms I know.” _

_ I sat back down, rubbing my hands over my face. Our flight was scheduled for Christmas morning, the day after his birthday, and now we couldn't leave work at all. _

_ "Did you say it was okay? On the other side of the table, I felt that he remained completely frozen. _

_ “What other option did I have?” _

_ “Tell him we wouldn't be ready!” _

_ “But it would be a lie. We can get ready.” _

_ I dropped my hands and kept my mouth open, looking at him. _

_ “Yes, but only if we work fifteen hours a day during the holiday, and all this to be able to launch on that stupid date!” _

_ He threw his arms up, fire in his eyes. _

_ “He is paying us a million dollars for basic marketing and we are negotiating another campaign, ten million. Don't you think it's reasonable to work fifteen hours a day to keep our biggest customer happy?” _

_ “Of course it is! But he is not your only customer! The first rule of the business world is never to let the big dog know how small other dogs are.” _

_ “Damn it, Harry! I won't say that you can't do what he wants.” _

_ “Sometimes a little negotiation can be a good thing. You are acting like an inexperienced, Tomlinson. If you weren't sure what to say, you should have passed the call on to me.” _

_ I immediately wanted to put those words back in my mouth. His eyes widened, his mouth opened and, shit, his hands closed into tight fists. _

_ I took my hand to protect the middle of my legs. _

_ “Are you serious? What else do you want to do? Feed in my mouth? You fucking self-centered!” _

_ I couldn't help myself. _

_ “Only if I also help you chew.” _

_ His face relaxed and I could see his mind calculating how much he wanted to kick my ass. _

_ "We are not going to Saint Barthelemy anymore," he said dryly. _

_ “This is obvious. Why do you think I'm angry?” _

_ “Well, even if we still were, you would sleep alone, with your hand and a tube of lubricant.” _

_ “I can handle it. These two hands know how to vary from time to time.” _

_ He looked away, chin tight. _

_ “Are you trying to make me even madder?” _

_ “Sure, why not?” _

_ His dark eyes looked back at me. His voice broke when he asked: _

_ “Why?” _

_ “For you to feel the maximum pain. Because you should have told George that this type of decision needs confirmation from the whole team, and that we would only respond after the holiday.” _

_ “How do you know I didn't say that?” _

_ “You came here to tell the news. He didn't act like it was a suggestion.” He stared at me, his eyes going through hundreds of different reactions. I waited to see how many bad words he could say next, but he surprised me by simply turning and walking away. _

* * *

_ Louis didn't spend that night at my place. It was only the second night we had spent apart since his MBA presentation in June, and I didn't even dare try to sleep. Instead, I was watching Mad Men on Netflix and wondering who of us would apologize first. _

_ The problem was, I was right, and I knew it. _

_ Christmas morning came with snow and a wind so strong that it pushed me into the building as I walked, alone, from the garage to my office. _

_ I never thought he would leave me again after our fight. I thought we would be together for a long time, whose official start could be tomorrow or ten years from now. There was nothing he could do to keep me away. And although I thought Louis thought the same, he rarely escaped an argument. He continued to duel with me until I was kneeling figuratively, or until he was kneeling, but in a non-figurative way. _

_ Only a few SMG employees went to work on the holiday - those who were part of the Papadakis team. And everyone looked at Louis when he walked down the hall to get coffee. Knowing him well, he probably worked late into the night and slept under the table. _

_ He didn't even look at where I was standing at the conference room door. Still, I could almost hear his thoughts as I passed each of the grumpy team members: "You can get screwed. And so can you. And you? The one with that pathetic frown? You can really get screwed. " _

_ He went to his office, settled down and left the door open. It was like saying "come over here and complain if you dare". _

_ Even though everyone really wanted to fill their ears with complaints about ruining everyone's holiday plans, no one dared to move. The business world had taught each of us the same rule: work is sacred. The last person to leave is a hero. The first person to arrive has the right to boast. Working on holidays means a ticket to Heaven. _

_ A more experienced executive would have told Papadakis that his request was impossible, but, as always, I admired Louis' determination. He was not just reaching a new level. This was the launch of his career. It was its foundation. Louis looked like me a few years ago. _

_ After everyone left at the end of the day, I knocked on his door, gently warning him of my presence. _

_ "Mr. Styles," he said, taking off his glasses and looking at me. The silhouette of the city blinked behind him, points of light covering his entire window. “Did you come here to show me what I must do to get the job done?” _

_ “Louis, I'm sure that if you want, you can do it yourself, just with your willpower.” _

_ He allowed himself a half smile and leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. I couldn't help but laugh and collapsed on the chair in front of his desk. His eyebrows came together a little. _

_ “Well, before you say anything else: yes, I know this sucks. And... I think you were right. We could be on a beach right now.” _

_ I started to speak, but he held up his hand asking me to wait. _

_ “But it turns out that, no matter how much I should, I didn't want to say no to Papadakis. I wanted to get the job done, because we can, and we should. It was late in the day anyway and we had a lot of time to work on it. I felt it wouldn't be honest to say that we couldn't do it.” _

_ "It's true," I admitted, "but by letting him change a deadline for the beginning of the quarter, you've set a precedent.” _

_ "I know," he said, rubbing his temples with his fingertips. _

_ “But actually, I didn't come here to say you were wrong. I came here to say that I understand what you did. I can't blame you.” _

_ He dropped his hands, his eyes studying me carefully. _

_ “At this point in your career, I can't be surprised that you say yes to Papadakis.” _

_ His mouth opened and I could feel a line of swearing forming on his tongue. _

_ "Calm down, babe," I said, raising my hand. “I do not mean that you are naive. And I don't mean to say that you still need to mature, although it's true, even if you don't like hearing it. I mean you are still building your career. You want to show the world that you are an Atlas and that, for a Titan, that damn celestial sphere weighs nothing. It turns out that it affected the whole team, and just on a holiday. I understand why you did this, and I also understand why you are feeling this conflict. I'm sorry that you have to face this difficulty, because I've been through it too” I lowered my voice and approached. “It sucks.” _

_ The room darkened, and the sun plunged into the horizon the moment I finished speaking. Louis watched me, his face relaxed and practically unreadable. _

_ Well, undecipherable to anyone else. Anyone who hadn't seen that face a thousand times, an expression that said he wanted to slap, kiss, scratch and then fuck me. _

_ "Don't use that smug smile," he said, eyes closed. “I know what you're trying to do.” _

_ “What am I trying to do?” _

_ “Tease me. Playing tough, but also my lover. Damn it, Harry!” _

_ “You will have sex with me in your office!” I said, full of surprise and joy. “God, you're easy.” _

_ He got up quickly, walked around the table and grabbed my tie. _

_ "Damn it," he undid the tie, covered my eyes with his tie and tied it behind my head. "Stop studying me," he said in my ear. “Stop seeing everything.” _

_ "Never." I closed my eyes behind the silk fabric and let my other senses take over, smelling the delicate citrus scent of his perfume and reaching out to feel the smooth skin on his arms. I moved my hands, slowly moving down his body, and turned him around, pulling him to my chest. “Better that way?” _

_ His sigh was not directed at me; it was a sound of genuine frustration. _

_ "Harry," he murmured, leaning back against me. “You are driving me crazy.” _

_ I grabbed his waist, pulling him further and making him feel the erection that was pressing on his ass. _

_ “At least certain things never change.” _

* * *

I blinked back to reality when the stewardess bent down to tell me something.

“Pardon?” I said.

“Would you like a drink with your meal?”

"Ah, yes," I said, removing the memory of Louis's body from my mind as I ate it on his office desk.

“Just a shot of Gray Goosee and some ice, please.”

“And what are you going to eat? We have filet mignon or a selection of cheese and olives.”

I ordered the cheeses and looked out the window. At thirty thousand feet high, I could be anywhere. But I had the distinct feeling of going back in time.

I had not been in France since my return to England, when I met Louis in person. For the hundredth time, I realized how old Harry didn't look at all familiar.

Christmas was a revelation because, before I got involved with Louis, I too would have accepted George Papadakis' will without thinking twice. He was so similar to me in so many ways... it was even a little scary.

I smiled when I remembered my mom's advice:  _ "Never fall in love with someone who puts you first. Find someone who is as fearless and energetic as you are. Find someone who makes you want to be a better person." _

Well, I found  _ him _ . Now all I had to do was wait for him to get there, to make sure he knew it.


	11. Chapter 11

**• Harry •**

The way to our borrowed house was covered with small smooth stones. They were brown and uniform in size, and although they were clearly selected for their appearance and the way they matched the landscape, it was obvious that the place was meant to be enjoyed, not treated as a precious and untouchable museum piece. Flowerpots and urns lined both sides of the path, overflowing with colorful buttons. There were trees everywhere, and in the distance there were benches separated from the rest of the field by walls of flourishing vines.

I have certainly never seen such a beautiful country house. The exterior had a reddish hue, like the color of clay, whose aging resulted in an absolutely charming effect. White curtains covered the large windows on the first and second floors, and more vibrant flowers covered the door frames. The scent in the air was a mix between the scent of the ocean and peonies.

Springs sprung up on a lattice and framed the narrow double door inspired by provincial France. The top step was cracked, but clean, and there was a simple green carpet on the concrete floor.

I turned and looked at the garden. In the far corner, among several fig trees, a long table was covered with an orange towel and decorated with a narrow line of small blue bottles of different sizes and shapes. There were clean white plates spaced apart, waiting for the guests for a meal. A green field stretched as far as I was, under the narrow porch, interrupted only by occasional arrangements filled with purple, yellow and pink flowers.

I took the key from my pocket and went into the house. From the outside, you could see it was a big house, but inside, the size seemed to expand almost like an optical illusion.

My God, Max, this seems a little excessive. I knew that his house in the Provence region was big, but I didn't think there was a fucking room. From the front door, I could see at least a dozen other doors connecting to the main hall, and there were certainly countless other rooms upstairs.

I stopped at the entrance, looking at the huge urn that looked like a larger version of the vase my mother had in her dining room; the blue ceramic base was identical, and the same beautiful yellow lines ran along the curved sides. I remembered when Max brought the gift to my mom the first time he came home with me at Christmas. At the time, I didn't realize the personal meaning of that gift, but now, looking around your home, I could see works by the same artist everywhere: on plates hanging over the fireplace, in hand-molded kettles and a set of simple cups on a tray.

I smiled and reached out to touch the urn. Louis would go crazy when he saw this, that vase was his favorite piece of decoration in my mother's house. I felt a strong feeling that we were destined to meet here.

_ After his birthday dinner in December, Louis hesitated in the dining room, looking at my mom's impressive art collection. But instead of doing the obvious and inspecting the brightness of Tiffany's vases or the intricate details of the carved wooden bowls, he went straight to the small blue vase in the corner. _

_ "I don't think I've ever seen this color before," he said, marveling. “I thought that color didn't exist outside my imagination.” _

_ My mom came over and took the vase off the shelf. In the soft light of the chandelier, the color almost seemed to sparkle and change, even when Louis held it in his hand. I had never noticed how beautiful that piece was. _

_ "It's one of my favorites," my mother admitted, smiling. “I also had never seen anything with that color.” _

But that was not entirely true, I thought, as I stepped away from the urn and headed for the fireplace. The sea there was that color, when the sun appeared high on the horizon and the sky showed a clear blue. Just like that, the sea was exactly that same blue, like the deep heart of a sapphire. An artist who lived there would know that.

On a shelf, there were three handmade santons - the small statuettes are a Provence tradition. All of those had obviously been created by the same artist who made my mother's vase, the giant urn and the rest of the art in the house. He or she was supposed to be a local artist and, whether he was alive or already deceased, maybe Lou would have the opportunity to see other pieces of his during our vacation. The coincidence, the perfection of everything, seemed almost surreal.

The blue and green tones on the plate mounted over the fireplace reflected the sunlight at dusk, casting a soft blue glow on the back wall. With the wind blowing the trees outside and the sunlight dancing among the shadows, the effect was similar to looking at the surface of the ocean. Along with the white furniture and the rest of the minimalist decor in the living room, that setting made me immediately feel calmer. The world of SMG and Papadakis, work, stress and the constant ringing of my cell phone, all of this seemed to be millions of kilometers away.

Unfortunately, this also applied to Louis.

As if he could hear my thoughts from his flight, my cell phone rang in my pocket and his ringing message echoed through the quiet room.

Picking up my cell phone, I looked at the screen and read the message: Mechanics strike. All flights canceled. I'm stuck in London.


	12. Chapter 12

**• Louis •**

“What do you mean with  _ canceled _ ?!” I said, staring at the woman on the other side of the counter. She looked to be my age, with a face full of freckles and red hair stuck in a ponytail. And it also looked like I was about to strangle not only me, but all the other passengers at the airport.

"Unfortunately, we were informed of a strike by the mechanics union," she said dryly. “All lines to Provence have been canceled. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

Well, those excuses didn't seem very sincere. I still didn't know what to do as I digested her words.

“Sorry, what?!”

She adjusted her expression to a fully rehearsed smile.

“All flights were canceled because of the strike.” I looked over his shoulder at the screen with Provence Airlines departures and arrivals. And there was the word CANCELED next to each line.

“Are you telling me I'm stuck here?”

“We will do our best to arrange your accommodation for tonight…”

“No, no, no, no, that's impossible. Please check again.”

“Sir, as I said, no Provence Airlines flight will take off or land. You can check with other companies if they have any flights that can accommodate you. There is nothing else I can do.”

I let out a growl, frustrated, dropping my forehead on the counter. Harry was waiting for me, probably sitting somewhere in the sun, with his laptop open and working like the damn workaholic he is. God, he turns me on.

"This can't be happening," I said, straightening up and pleading with the most humble look I could get. “The cutest prick in the world is waiting for me in France and I can't ruin this trip!”

"Riiiight," she said, clearing her throat and arranging a stack of paper.

I was lost.

“How much time?” I asked.

“We have no way of knowing. Of course, they will try to resolve the issue as soon as possible. It may take a day, or even longer.”

Well, what a great help. With a dramatic sigh and a few muffled expletives, I dragged myself away from the counter in search of a quiet corner where I could call my assistant. Oh, and send a message to Harry.

This would definitely not work.

* * *

The cell phone rang in a matter of seconds.

I walked through the crowd, through the herd of non-flying passengers that took over most of the Provence Airlines terminal, and stopped in a corner next to the bathrooms.

“Hi.”

“What the hell do you mean by "stuck in London"?” he screamed.

I shivered, pulling the phone away from my ear before taking a deep breath to calm myself.

“I mean exactly that. All flights were canceled, nobody leaves and nobody arrives. I asked my assistant to check with Delta and other companies, but I'm sure everyone else has done it too.”

“This is unacceptable!” He roared.

“Do they know who you are? Let me talk to someone.”

I laughed.

“Nobody here knows or cares who I am. Or who you are.”

He was quiet for a moment, long enough for me to check if the line was down. It wasn’t. The sound of flying birds filled the connection, with a chimney in the distance. When he finally spoke again, he used that deep, firm voice that I knew so well. The one that still made my skin crawl. The one I used when I was very serious.

"Tell them to get your ass on a plane right now," he said, pronouncing each word slowly.

“All flights are full, Harry. What do you want me to do? Use a flying carpet? Relax, I'll get there when I can.”

He groaned and I realized that he accepted the fact that he couldn't get out of this by arguing or using his charm.

“But when?”

“I do not know my love. Maybe tomorrow? The next day? Soon, I promise!”

With a resigned sigh, he asked:

“And now?”

I heard the sound of a door opening and closing, with soft music playing in the background.

"We have to wait," I sighed. “I'm going to a hotel, maybe work a little. Maybe I can take a look at the apartments while I'm here. And then I promise to get on the first available flight. Even if I have to kick some businessmen out…”

"You'd better do that," he said.

I shook my head to expel the sound of that imposing voice.

“Then tell me about the house. Is it as beautiful as I imagine?”

“Even more. I mean, your presence will obviously make it even better, but damn... Max really got over it here!”

“Well, try to enjoy it. Sunbathe, swim, read some nonsense. Walk around barefoot.”

“Walk around barefoot? This is unusual advice, even for you.”

“It doesn't.”

“Yes sir.”

I smiled.

“You know, I think I like that side of you. You look very sexy when you are ordered, Styles.”

He laughed softly.

“Oh, and... Louis…”

“Hmm?”

“I hope you didn't pack any boxers. You won't need it.”

* * *

I spent the rest of the day at the airport, praying for a miracle or a flight to France. I didn't get either.

It took me hours to locate my luggage, so I was exhausted when I got to the hotel room. Because of the time difference, it was too late, or too early, to call Harry, so I sent a message while preparing a bath and asking room service for a bottle of wine and anything with chocolate.

I had just stepped into the bathtub - with a glass of wine and a chocolate cheesecake precariously balanced in the corner - when my cell phone rang. I searched the floor until I found it and gave a big smile when I saw Harry's face lighting the screen.

"I thought you were sleeping," I said.

“The bed is too big.”

I smiled when I heard his sleepy voice.

This was Harry who would roll over to me during the night, his arms warm and heavy, whispering sweet words on my skin. He was always better at this than I was, even in the beginning.

“What are you doing?” He asked, pulling my attention back to the cell phone.

"Bubble bath," I said, smiling at the sound of his moan on the other end of the line.

“Is not fair.”

“Is that you?”

“Reviewing some documents”

“Did you find my note?”

“Note?”

“I left something for you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Look in your laptop bag.”

I heard a creaking of leather as he stood up, then the sound of his footsteps on the tiled floor, followed by a laugh.

“Louis” he said, laughing even harder “it looks like someone left a ransom request here.”

“Funny.”

"Three remarks about today: I didn't do everything on my to-do list, the salad you prepared for lunch was delicious and, most importantly, I love you" he read, and then was silent while reading the rest of the ticket. When he finished, he murmured, "I... shit." I'm going crazy without you here.

I closed my eyes.

“The universe is conspiring against us.”

“You know, part of me knows that none of this would happen if you weren't so stubborn and had come with me” I started to protest. "But," he said, continuing, "your determination is one of the things I like most about you. You never give up. You never expect someone to do a job that you wouldn't do yourself. And if I changed that, you wouldn't be the man I fell in love with. You did exactly what I would have done. As always. And it is also a little strange to realize how much we are alike.”

I sat in the warm water, bringing my knees up to my chest.

“Thank you, Hazz. It means a lot to me.”

“Well, I'm telling the truth. And you can show me your gratitude when you bring your hot ass here to France. Deal?”

I rolled my eyes.

Deal.

* * *

I didn't go to France the next day. Not next time. And on the third day I wondered if hitchhiking on a flying carpet would be a really bad idea.

It is possible that I called Harry more these three days than during the rest of our courtship. Even that was not enough, and it did nothing to alleviate the anxiety that now constantly lived in my head.

I kept busy, but I couldn't deny that I was homesick. I didn't know exactly when it happened, but at some point, Harry had become my home. He had become my chosen one.

And that was terrifying.

I came to that conclusion when I went for a walk. My assistant had called me, saying she got a seat on an AirFrance night flight. My first thought was to tell Harry immediately. I almost ran out to the hotel room.

But then I stopped, my heart racing and my lungs burning. When did he become the most important thing in my life? And I wondered: was it possible that he was trying to tell me that he felt the same thing? I packed my bags, stunned, throwing my clothes on anyway and gathering the things that were scattered around the room. I thought about how much he had changed in the past year. The moments of silence at night, the way he sometimes looked at me as if I were the only soul on the planet. I wanted to be with him... always. And not just living in the same apartment, but in a definitive way.

At that moment I was struck by an idea so crazy, so insane, that I burst out laughing, almost literally. I was never the type of man to expect things to happen, why would that be any different? So, I made up my mind.

Harry Styles had no idea what was about to hit him.


	13. Chapter 13

**• Harry •**

As impossible as it may seem, I was completely bored in that beautiful and huge French countryside. The place didn't require maintenance or cleaning, my internet connection was so slow that I couldn't get into the SMG server to do any work and - perhaps most tragically - I felt I shouldn't be doing things until Louis arrived.

It felt wrong to dive into the infinity pool knowing he was stuck in London. I didn't want to wander around the vineyards around the house, because I thought it was something for us to discover together. The housekeeper had set aside a few bottles of wine for us, but only a complete idiot would drink alone. Discovering the rest of the house was also his right. Until then I had only opened the door to a room, where I slept, without wanting to evaluate our options until he arrived. Together, we would decide where to spend our nights.

Of course, if I told him anything about it he would laugh in my face and say I was being dramatic. But that was why I wanted him here. Something monumental had happened to me the other day, when I used the bat-signal, and the sense of urgency had not abated since then - and probably would not abate until he came and listened to what I had to say.

I walked through the gardens, contemplated the sea and checked my phone again, reading Louis' most recent message for the hundredth time:

It looks like Air France has a seat available.

He had sent the message three hours ago. Although it looked promising, his previous three messages had been similar, and in the end he was left out of those flights. Even if he had taken off three hours ago, he would not arrive in Marseille until tomorrow morning, at best.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a person appear from behind the house and put a plate of food on the table near the pool. With another look at my cell phone, Vique had managed to kill more hours and it was finally lunchtime. There was a cook in the house, a woman in her fifties named Dominique, who baked bread every morning and, until now, had served some variations of fish, fresh salad from the garden and figs. The dessert consisted of handmade macaroons or jelly cookies. If Louis didn't arrive soon, Dominique would have to roll me over to the door to receive him.

Next to my plate was a glass of wine, and when I looked at Dominique, she stopped at the back door, pointed at the wine and said:

“Le boire. Vous vous ennuyez, et solitaire. “

Well, that sucks. I was bored and lonely. A glass of wine would not hurt. I wasn't celebrating, I was just surviving, right? I thanked Dominique for lunch and sat down at the table, trying to ignore the perfect temperature brisana, the sound of the ocean so close, the feeling of the heated floor under my feet. I would not enjoy a single second until Louis arrived.

Harry, you are a pathetic egocentric.

As usual, the fish was unbelievable and the salad with small onions and cubes of white cheese tasted so much that I didn't even notice it when my glass was empty and Dominique was beside me, filling it again. I started to stop it, saying he didn't need any more wine.

“Je vais bien, je n'ai pas besoin de plus.”

She winked at me.

“Puis l'ignorer.”

_ So, ignore it. _

* * *

A bottle of wine later and I started to wonder why I hadn't bought a country house in France myself. After all, I had lived in that country before, and although I had not very pleasant memories - I was away from friends and family, with a strenuous work schedule - I had lived there for a time in my life that, in retrospect, seemed so short. I was still young. It was just getting started, actually. Louis and I met when we still had our whole lives ahead of us.

Hell, if Max could find a beautiful place like that, I could find another one even more beautiful and luxurious.

The wine left my limbs warm and heavy, and my head filled with thoughts that didn't seem to make sense. I imagined the madness it would be to meet Louis in my early twenties. We would have destroyed that house, and it probably lasted only a week. Isn't it amazing how we found the right person at the right time? I took out my cell phone and sent him a message:

_ I'm so happy to have met you back then. Even though you're a huge asshole, you're still the best thing that ever happened to me. _

I stared at the phone, waiting for his answer, but nothing happened. Was his phone out of battery? Or was he sleeping at the hotel? Could you send a message from the plane? I figured it out in my mind and thought it was six... seven hours apart? No, too complicated. I smiled at Dominique as she poured me another glass of wine and sent another message to Louis:

_ I'm not dkinrinkg all the wwine, but what I toucd is deliciouuuus! I promiss to save some for u. _

I got up and stumbled ... on something. I frowned at the lawn and wondered if I had stepped on any small animal. Discarding that thought, I walked to the garden, stretching and letting out a long, happy sigh. I felt relaxed for the first time since my last sex with Louis, zillions of years ago. With a full belly and a little wine on my head, I remembered that I hadn't planned on his arrival yet. We had a few things to take care of before. We had a conversation to have and plans to do.

Should I bring him to the garden, kneel with him on the lawn and make him listen? Or wait for a moment of silence during dinner and then go to him, taking him out of the chair and bringing him close to me? I knew what I meant - I had rehearsed the words a thousand times in my mind on the flight here - but I still didn't know when to say them.

It is best to let him get used to it for a few days before throwing the bomb.

I closed my eyes, leaned my head back and looked up at the sky. So I allowed myself to enjoy it, just for a moment. The weather was spectacular. The last time I had been outside with him was during a barbecue at Gemma's house, the previous weekend, and the weather was just mild. After a day in the sun and wind, we went home and had the most lazy, quietest sex I can remember. I opened my eyes and immediately hit my face with the palm of my hand.

_ “Oh shit.” _

Dominique appeared in the distance.

_ “ _ _ Allez” _ she said, pointing to the main gate and suggesting that I go over there. “ _ Se promener. Vous êtes ivre.” _ __

I laughed. It was true, I was already drunk. She had served me the whole bottle of wine.

_“Je suis ivre parce que vous me versa une bouteille entière de vin_ ” I think that's what I said.

With a smile, she lifted her chin.

_ “Allez chercher des fleurs dans la rue. Demandez Mathilde.” _

* * *

That was a good thing. I had a task. Find flowers. Ask for Mathilde. I bent down to tie my shoe and went out the front door, heading towards the city center. Dominique was a smart girl, she got drunk and then sent me to the city, so that I wouldn't be at home all day without having to do anything. She and Louis would get along very well.

Just under a kilometer down the street, there was a small shop whose entrance overflowed with flowers in every type of container: vases, baskets, boxes, urns. On the door there was a plaque on which MATHILDE was written in ornamental letters.

_ Bingo. _

A bell rang when I entered and a young blonde appeared in the small main room of the store. After receiving me in French, she quickly looked me up and down and asked:

“Are you the Brit?”

“Oui, mais je parle français.”

"But I also speak English," she said, with her strong accent carrying every word. “And this is my store, so I'm going to practice.”

She raised her eyebrows as if she were flirting or challenging me. She was beautiful, no doubt, but her lingering eye contact and sexy smile made me a little uncomfortable.

It was then that it occurred to me: Dominique knew I was bored and lonely, but he probably had no idea that I expected Louis to arrive. She filled me with wine and then sent me to the young maiden down the street.

_ Oh my God. _

Mathilde came a little closer, adjusting some flowers in a large, slender vase. “Dominique said that you are staying at Mr. Stella.”

“Do you know Max?” 

She laughed quietly and discreetly.

“Yes, I know Max.”

"Ah," I said, widening my eyes. Of course. “You mean you  _ know  _ Max.”

"I'm not the only one who knows him like that," she said, laughing again. Taking her eyes off her flowers, she asked: “Did you come here for the flowers? Or do you think Dominique may have sent you for another reason?”

"My boyfriend is coming tomorrow, he was stuck in London because of a strike and now he's on his way," I said at once, embarrassed.

“So you came for the flowers” Mathilde paused, looking around the store. -”hat a lucky man. You are very beautiful” her eyes looked back at me. “Maybe you will sober up until then?”

I frowned. Then I straightened up and murmured:

“I'm not that drunk.”

“No?” She raised her eyebrows and an amused smile spread on her face. Then he walked around the store, collecting a variety of flowers. “You are very charming, anyway,  _ Friend of Max _ . Wine only makes people less inhibited. I bet you usually button your shirts and don't like people who walk too slowly in front of you.”

I frowned even more. She was right.

“I take my job seriously, but I'm not like that... all the time.”

Mathilde smiled, tying a bow on the flowers. Then she handed me the bouquet and winked.

“You're not working here. Keep your shirt unbuttoned. And don't sober up for your lover. There are nine beds in that house.”

* * *

The front door was open. Did Dominique go out and not close? I felt a panic overwhelm me. What if something happened while I was gone? What if the house had been broken into? Despite Mathilde's advice, I instantly sobered up.

But she hadn't been mugged. It was exactly the way I had left it, with just a little more wind coming in through the open door. Still... I didn't use that door; I went from the yard to the front yard. Down the hall, I heard running water and said to Dominique:

_ “ Merci pour l'idée, Dominique, mais ma copine arrive demain.” _

She needed to know as soon as possible that I was a committed person. Who knows if he would start inviting women to come over there? Was that what she did for Max? My God, that man hasn't changed a bit.

As I approached the first room, I realized that the water I heard was a shower. And that inside the room there were several suitcases.

Louis' suitcases.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW!
> 
> The last chapter is here and I just want to say: THANK YOU ALL!!
> 
> Thanks for all the sweet comments, kudos, subscriptions... Thank you for keeping up with this story and supporting me so much through this whole big journey! You guys are the best and made so many of my days brighter! Loads of love ♥

**• Harry •**

I could invade the bathroom and give him a fright. He had, after all, been stupid enough not to close the front door properly, allowing the wind to open it for good. So I went out to take a shower. I clenched my chin and fists as I wondered what could happen if someone else decided to enter the house.

_ Shit _ . I hadn't seen him in days and I wanted to squeeze his neck and then cover him with kisses. I felt a smile grow in my mouth. We were just that. Such a familiar battle between love and frustration, desire and exasperation. He pissed me off in every way, and then he found other ways to piss me off that I didn't even know existed.

His singing leaked from the bathroom to the room where I had spent the first night there. As I approached, peering out the door, I was greeted by the sight of his wet hair and his bare back. Then he bent down, leaving his perfect ass raised in the air as he continued to sing to himself.

Part of me wanted to go in there and embrace him slowly, kissing every soft part of his skin. Another part of me wanted to invade and fulfill my promise to take him from behind, slowly and carefully. But an even bigger part just wanted to enjoy the view. He still didn't know I was there, and seeing him like that - thinking he was alone, singing softly, maybe even thinking about me - was like a glass of fresh water on a hot summer day. I would never tire of watching you, in any scenario. And naked, wet, under the shower was one of my favorite sets.

He rinsed his legs and stood up, turning to remove the conditioner from his hair. That was when he saw me. A smile exploded on his face and his nipples hardened. I almost destroyed the glass door to get to him.

“Since when are you there?”

I shrugged, looking at the outline of his body.

“You are  _ so  _ perverted.”

"I'm still a pervert, you mean." I took a step forward, crossing my arms over my chest as I leaned against the wall. “When you arrived, sneaky little thing?”

“Half an hour ago.”

“I thought you just got on the plane in New York. Did you find a magic carpet, after all?”

He laughed, tilting his head for a final rinse before turning off the shower.

“I took the first flight I told you about. But I thought it would be fun to surprise you” taking his hair in both hands, he pressed the ends together and watched the excess water pour between his fingers, while looking at me with eyes that seemed increasingly hungry. “I think I already expected you to arrive and find me naked taking a shower. Maybe that's why I came to the shower.”

“I admit it is very convenient, because I am ready to be naked too.”

Louis opened the door and came straight to me.

“I wanted that pretty little mouth on you the moment I heard you were flirting with the flower girl.”

I made an ugly face.

“Oh,  _ come on _ ” and then I paused. “How did you know that?”

He smiled.

“Dominique speaks English very well. She said she was tired of seeing you with nothing to do and then he sent you there because you look so cute when you are angry. I agreed.”

“She... _ what? _ ”

“But I'm glad you didn't bring Mathilde here. This could be embarrassing.”

"Or it could be incredible," I teased, pulling him to me and wrapping a towel around his shoulders. I felt the water on his chest wet my clothes.  _ He is here. He is here. He is here. _ I bent down and ran my lips over his. “Hi my love.”

"Hi," he whispered as he hugged me. “Have you stayed with two people at once?” He asked, leaning back and running his hands under my shirt as I dried him. “I can't believe I never asked that before.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too. Answer my question.”

I winced.

“Yes.”

His hands were cold and his short nails scratched my torso.

“And more than two at once?” Shaking my head, I bent down to run the tip of my nose along his chin.

He smelled familiar, he smelled like my Louis: his own scent, citrusy and smooth.

“Weren't you saying something about wanting my mouth on you?”

"Specifically involving my cock," he ordered.

“That's what I thought” I bent down, picked him up and carried him to the bed.

When I put him on the mattress, he sat down, leaned back with his hands behind him, bringing his feet to the edge of the bed... and spread his legs. Then he looked at me and whispered:

“Take off your clothes.”

My God, that man would kill me with that kind of vision. I kicked my shoes off, took off my socks, and brought my hands up to my back to rip off my shirt. After letting him admire my chest for a few seconds, I scratched my belly and smiled at him.

“Did you like something you saw?”

“Are you trying to make me a private show?” His hand went up the thigh, grabbing the erect member and sliding slowly, from the glans to the base. “I can do that too.”

“Are you kidding me?” I took a deep breath, trying to remove my belt and opening the buttons of the pants with a single movement. I almost fell trying to get my pants off. He removed his hand and held out both arms to me.

"Over the top," he said, apparently giving up on my mouth. “On top of me, I want to feel your weight.”

This was definitely perfect. We both wanted to make love before doing anything else: walking, eating, talking.

His skin was very fresh, and mine was still warm from the sun, from the walk home and from the excitement of meeting him there so unexpectedly. The contrast was incredible. Beneath me, he was nothing but soft skin and small, silent moans. His nails dug into my back, his teeth scraped my chin, my neck, my shoulder.

"I want you inside me," he whispered in a kiss.

“Not yet.”

Despite letting out a growl of frustration, for a moment he let me just kiss him. I loved the feel of his lips on my tongue. I could feel with every intensity every point where our bodies touched: his chest against my chest, his hands on my back, the tendons of his thighs pressing against my sides. When he wrapped his legs around me, his calves felt like a blanket of warmth around me. I took my hand down and grabbed the back of his knee, pulling him up around my waist until I felt my cock slide against his soft skin.

Beneath me, he arched and started to roll, getting the maximum friction between us without me pushing inside. Our kisses started out slow and provocative, and then increased in intensity to a voracious hunger before returning to a slower, more affectionate cadence. Louis let me pin his arms over his head, let me suck and bite his nipples almost until it hurt. He asked me what I wanted, what I liked, and whether I wanted his body or his mouth first. When we were naked together, his first instinct was to always give me pleasure.

That boy surprised me. I had lost perspective on who he was outside of our relationship. With me, he could be anything. Courage and fear were not opposed. He could be mean and sweet, naughty and innocent. I wanted to be everything to him, in the same way.

"I love the way we kiss," he whispered, the words pressed to my lips.

“How so?” I knew what he was talking about. I knew exactly what he meant, but I wanted to hear him say how perfect everything was.

“I just love the fact that we kiss the same. You always seem to know exactly how I want it.”

"I want to be married," I blurted out suddenly.  _ “I want you to marry me.” _

_ FUCK. _

And then, my carefully rehearsed speech was thrown out the window. My grandmother's ring was in a box inside the drawer - away from me - and my plan to kneel and do everything right just evaporated.

Within my arms, Louis remained completely still.

“What did you just say?!” I completely screwed up the plan, but now it was too late to go back.

"I know we've been together for just over a year," I explained quickly. “Maybe it's too soon. I understand if you think it's too soon. It's just, you know when you said you love the way we kiss? I feel the same way about everything we do together. I love all. I love getting into you, I love working with you, I love watching you work, I love arguing with you and I love just sitting on the couch and laughing with you. I feel lost when I'm not with you, Lou. I can't think of anything, or anyone, that is more important to me. So, in my mind, it means that in a way we are already married. I think now I want to make it official somehow. Maybe I'm talking nonsense” I looked at him, my heart trying to get out of my mouth. “I never thought I would feel this for anyone.”

"I want to get married," I said again. His silence made me nervous and, shit, with my run over words, I had completely ruined the moment. “Marry you, I mean.”

His eyes filled with tears and he put his hand over his face, trying not to blink.

“You are. So. Stupid.”

Well, that was unexpected. I knew it might be too soon, but... stupid? Oh really? I closed my eyes.

“A simple  _ "it's too early" _ would be enough, Louis. God. I open my heart like that and you…”

He got out of bed and ran to one of his suitcases, rummaging through it and taking out a small bag of blue fabric. He brought it to me, with the noose hanging from his index finger, and waved the bag in front of my face. I ask him to marry me and he gives me a souvenir from London?

“What the hell is this, Louis?”

“What do you think, genius?”

“Don't play smart with me, Tomlinson. It's a bag. As far as I know, there's a cereal bar in there, or a vibrator, I don't know.”

“It's a ring, you fool.  _ For you _ .”

My heart was beating so hard and fast that I almost thought it was an attack.

“A ring for me?”

He took a small box out of the bag and showed it to me. It was polished platinum, with a titanium band in the middle.

“Were you going to propose to me?” I asked, still completely confused. He punched me hard in the arm.

“Yes, you bastard. And you totally stole my moment.”

“So, is that a  _ "yes" _ ?” I asked, my puzzlement growing. “You will marry me?”

“You have to answer!” He shouted, but he was smiling.

“Technically, you haven't asked yet.”

“Damn it, Harry!”

“Will you marry me?” I asked, laughing.

“Will  _ you  _ marry me?”

With a groan, I picked up the box and dropped it on the floor. Then I threw Louis on his back on the bed.

“Will you always be impossible like that?”

He nodded, eyes wide and lip stuck in his teeth. Shit. We could work this out later.

"Take my cock," I bent down, kissed his neck and groaned when he grabbed me. “Guide to you.” He adjusted his hips under me until I felt he was right at his entrance. I slid in slowly, even though every muscle and tendon in my body wanted to come in hard and uncontrolled. I groaned, shivering over him, feeling like I was sinking inside.

Moving my hips back and forth, I felt his arms wrap around me and his face sink into my neck as he rose to follow my movements. It only took two more movements for us to become more wild and frantic.

"Come to me," I whispered into his mouth, licking, pleading. I lifted his leg, pinned it to his side and went deeper. My eyes closed for a moment and I felt like I was going to explode at any moment.

He pressed his face back into the pillow, opened his lips to try to breathe and I took the opportunity to slide my tongue into his mouth.

“Is that good?” I whispered, squeezing his waist with my fingertips. He loved the threshold between pain and pleasure, that perfect spot that we discovered early in our relationship. He nodded again and I speeded up the movements, filling my head with his scent. I licked his throat, his neck, left a bite mark on his shoulder.

"Up here," he said, pulling me back into his face. “Kiss me.”

So I kissed. Again and again, until he starts to gasp and squirm under me, begging me to speed up. I felt his belly tense and then his legs tightened on me even more, the intensity of his screams increasing in my ear.

Squeezing my chin, I tried not to think about my own orgasm, wanting more intensity, more time, wanting to feel him come again before I even thought about getting close to climax.

His moans grew louder. Louis screamed and then gasped and tried to walk away, but I knew he could come again. I knew he was sensitive, but I could take more.

“Don't move away. You are not finished yet. It's not even close to finishing. Come again to me.”

His hips relaxed in my hands as he gripped my hair tighter.

“Oh” it was just a sigh. But there was so much contained in that single, silent sigh... I squeezed him even tighter, holding his hips and tilting them with my movements.

“Yes, like this.”

"I'm going to come," he said, panting. “I can't... I can't…”

His hips shook and I grabbed him as tightly as I could.

“Don't you dare stop.”

"Touch me..." he said, and I knew what I wanted. I kissed his neck before licking my fingers and sliding down his throbbing member - touching, pressing.

With a high-pitched scream, he came again, the muscles under his soft skin, squeezing me even tighter. I took a deep breath and let my orgasm explode down my back and travel all over my body. Points of light blinked behind my closed eyes. I could barely hear his hoarse moans under the sound of blood pounding in my ear.

_ “Yes, yes, yes, yes…” _ he said, delirious, before collapsing on the pillow.

I felt as if the walls were shaking in the silence that followed. My mind shook with the need I felt for him; it was disorienting.

"Yes," he breathed one last time. I remained completely still while consciousness slowly returned to my thoughts.

“Yes?”

Then, with limbs still shaking and wheezing, he gave me a huge smile. “Yes... I also want to marry you.”


End file.
